Welcome to Townsville
by n2a0d0i0a
Summary: "Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster." -Friedrich Nietzsche. There is a thin line between monsters and humans, and, sometimes, it gets blurred. / Rated T for cursing. Blues, reds, and eventual greens in the beginning.
1. S1C1: They're Back

I don't own Powerpuff Girls.

Author's note and translations for Romanian are at the bottom. (Note: I do not speak Romanian, and used Google translate therefore things may be off.)

Thank you to the amazing and fabulous beta for this story.

* * *

Section 1 Chapter 1:

They're Back

~Welcome~to~Townsville~

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

The wind hummed softly, its noise being the only one demanding attention at the moment. It seemed the entire town was encroached in silence at the time.

Crunch.

The trees protested as he pushed them, forcing himself forward. The leaves under his feet constantly crackling under pressure as he relentlessly continued his trek.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

As he moved, he was extremely aware of the darkness that had seized its claim on the world, covering everything in its gracious veil.

The moon was the only blemish in this perfect picture. It was quite a vile thing, encroaching on territories it was not meant to. The light had no business in the dark, and vice versa.

Thud.

He stopped in his tracks. There it was, alive before his eyes: one of the greatest man-made things to ever exist; except the true beauty came from the fact that it wasn't man-made.

The stony pillars rose high into the air, curling and reaching for the sky. Its wide walls reached across the still dirt, securing the land in its grasp. The glorious gargoyles were perched at the balconies, ready to take flight to avenge their master.

From the dim windows, ghosts of the past stared at the living, envy rising in their eyes. One could sense the spirits prowling around the structure, looking for some innocent soul to devour. This was the one place where light could not shine. He stood before the very essence of evil, and smirked.

Josiah Manor.

Walking through the field until he reached a plain stone wall, he came to a stop. Hesitantly, he reached out a hand, and it softly connected with the cold, hard surface. The seams began to merge into the center, sucking into themselves.

He felt his body jerk and the air was sucked out of his lungs as he was forced into something. In a matter of seconds he was face to face with an entirely different scene.

Red velvet walls reached to the ornate, gold ceiling. Rich, fur couches sat on the stone floors, beckoning to make contact with a living body once more.

Spirits of the dead seemed to screech from the very core of the place. So many had lived here– died here; they were integrated into the actual structure. They told tales of sorrow and grief, of lost children to the betrayal of lovers.

Home sweet home.

His smirk unconsciously grew, and his face alighted in something dangerously similar to happiness. He set down his small bag of belongings, and looked around.

If he hadn't spent the best years of his life here, it would have been near impossible to be able to tell what room he was in. All were intricately adorned, bathrooms and dining rooms alike.

However, he was more than familiar with the layout and after some consideration, came to the conclusion that this was one of the many living rooms on the estate.

As he continued to take in the luxurious space, he began to feel the filth covering his own self from the long journey. His clothes were torn, mud coloring his pale exterior. Blood stained his skin, and his hat lay limply on his head. He looked down in shame suddenly, such treatment would have elicited a horrible beating when he was young.

Out of habit, the hushed whisper worked its way out his throat,

"Eu nu sunt vrednic de prezența ta, oh strămoșii mari. Iartă-mi greșeala gravă."

Removing his hat, he reverantly leaned down, and touched his head to the floor,

"Oh, cei mari, eu cu umilință implor, vă rog să-mi permiteți la locul tău de odihnă. Eu depun eforturi pentru a vă aduce, și nobilul meu moștenire mare onoare."

He rose, and immediately made to right his mistake. Slowly leaning to reach into his bag, he pulled out a white wifebeater, and jeans. Heading to the north exit of the room, he grasped the gold and ruby bejeweled doorknob, pushing the door open.

He was greeted with more awe inspiring, velvet walls, and lavish decor. Drawing on his sharp memory, he started down the right hall, taking in the superior architecture.

No mere man could ever hope to accomplish this. They had no chance of creating such perfection.

The artwork by itself made the manor not just a building, but a living thing. The faces of all the past occupants of the house, the people who forged his family line, spurted from the walls, leaping out of their framed prison to walk the halls eternally.

He snapped from his trance when he came to the door he believed would lead to the bathroom. He turned the knob, and entered. His childhood memories served him well; he was in his planned destination.

Closing the door, he silently shed his clothes, wincing as he passed a particularly deep cut. He would have to feed soon, being in such a weakened state was unacceptable.

He stepped into the shower, and cleansed himself of the dirt and grime covering his body. He stood there for a few minutes, allowing himself a moment of serene relaxation before stepping out.

Quickly sliding on his clothes, and red baseball cap, he left his towel on the floor before sliding out of the room. He walked in silence back to the living room to retrieve his bag.

Before he even reached the door, his heightened senses picked up on it,

"–oh, familia mea infailibil, vă rugăm să fiți milostivi. Și așa, eu, deci cu mult sub tine, cere de la tine să-mi permiteți în domeniu. Trăiască linie Iosia."

It couldn't be.

He was so distracted by his thoughts, he had failed to notice that the voice had stopped chanting. The sound of a door slamming sent his mind reeling back to reality.

"Brick, fratele meu, it's been too long." A husky voice said.

Brick turned, and saw a blonde young man, about his age, dressed in a nice blue shirt, and black jeans. His eyes were a soft blue, and his skin was perfectly pale. The perfect picture of innocence. Brick snarled,

"Boomer. You look nice."

His brother was not fazed. He continued smiling,

"So, I take it you've heard."

"The whole world and their kids have heard. People can't just do what you've done and not expect to be blacklisted. Why would you get in league with him?"

Boomer sighed, "Oh come on, Brick, we both know neither vampires nor werewolves can survive on their own outside of their homes."

Brick's frown grew, "So, you were willing to turn your back on your family, your kind, for a few toys?"

"Mojo is our family, Brick."

"He's strayed Boomer, and so have you."

The blonde scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Whatever. So, tell me bro, what brings you back to Townsville?"

Brick scoffed right back, "Isn't it obvious? As you previously stated, I couldn't survive on my own. How long have you been in town?"

"I arrived a few minutes ago, you?"

"An hour, give or take. Are you planning on staying?"

"Yeah, what about you?"

"At least a few months, I need to get back on my feet before I can move on. So I'll take the top floor, you can take the middle. No interaction is needed after this point." Brick shrugged, and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Boomer called out.

He was met with a snort, "Not all of us can rely on Mojo to survive. I need to feed."

Brick slammed the door, just barely catching the "Try not to kill any bunnies" scream from the living room.

Just based on principle, he set out to drink from a bunny that night.

~Welcome~to~Townsville~

The dark substance dripped down the side of her hand as she hissed. Pain shot throughout her entire arm, while she desperately reached for something, anything to stop it from spreading. Her mind was screaming at her to do something, to decrease this scathing torture.

Blossom really hated mornings. Scratch that, she hated this morning. First, she missed her alarm, then she found out the Professor had missed his as well, and to top it all off, she spilled coffee on herself. While she was wearing her favorite shirt.

She was finding it really hard to be optimistic at this point.

"Blossom? What happened to you?"

The red headed girl turned to face her father. A smile spread on her face at the concerned look he wore.

"Professor, hi."

"Oh, honey, what happened?" He immediately reached for the paper towel roll. Quickly ripping a few off, he handed them to his daughter.

"Don't worry about it. I just got a little impatient with the coffee maker."

Before the other man could reply, a high pitched voice interrupted their conversation,

"Good morning."

"You're late Bubbles." Blossom scolded her sister.

"Sorry, I just wanted to look nice for school." Bubbles smiled, and began to walk to the door.

"I'll meet you outside then, Blossom. Bye, Professor." She called as she skipped out of their home.

"Bye, dear." He father called back.

He turned back to face his other daughter. She looked back at him and smiled,

"Well, she seems to be having an easier time than me."

Professor Utonium heartily laughed, "I'm sure you'll be fine. It's not like your new to this whole high school concept."

Blossom sighed, "Don't even remind me. Junior year is supposedly the most torturous time of people's lives."

The Professor smiled in pride, "Oh don't worry dear, I'm positive you'll maintain that A average."

The young girl smiled as well, "Let's hope so. Better?"

Her father looked at the middle of her flowery, pink blouse where the hideous brown stain was minutes ago, "Can't even tell it was there."

"Thanks Professor, I'll see you after school." She kissed his cheek, and walked out the door.

Blossom inwardly cringed at the frosty air that hit her square in the face. It wrapped around her form, forcing her to succumb to its strength. She felt her face beginning to grow red with the new force the cold was attempting to push onto her. She shivered lightly, and tightened her scarf around her freezing body.

She spotted a head of bright, golden hair at the end of the sidewalk, and stared in surprise.

"He's not here yet, Bubbles?"

"No, I wonder what's taking him so long. We're going to be late."

Blossom paused. Strange, Mitch may not have been the most responsible kid, but he was her friend. He was never late for carpool. Then again, he did have the tendency to party six out of seven nights in the week.

Either way, a few minutes ticked by in contemplative silence, and it became apparent that Mitch was not going to show up.

"Come on, let's walk." Blossom urged her sister.

"What?"

She sighed, "We have to get to school somehow."

"But, it's freezing out here."

"The exercise will warm us up."

Blossom had already started a steady stride in the direction of Townsville High. As she passed through the town, she realized how long it had been since she had really stopped and appreciated all of the things that made her childhood so great.

The old statue of the smiling monkey on Rikes street where her and Bubbles would always, without fail, get their picture taken together. They had hundreds of different poses, from dancing around the big, old ape to sticking their fingers up his nose.

And, the spot where Elmer Sglue used to have chugging contests with the others in her class. That kid could eat so much glue, the poor contenders never stood a chance.

She smiled as she passed the spot containing her favorite childhood memories. The old, fallen Pine Tree. It was a huge tree, whose lush, green leaves never seemed to fade. No one could really tell why, but the Professor had the theory that some chemicals may have spilled into the roots under the tree while it was still standing.

She, Mitch, and Bubbles always used to come here and sit on the trunk. Sometimes, they were riding a boat into some faraway land, sometimes they were a family of giants living in a tree house. No matter what they were doing though, Blossom always felt safe here. Like she could get away–

She was reminded of the presence of her sister when she heard a light gasp. Her head snapped, and she saw the school.

Her heart may have really stopped at the moment. Around the entire quad, there was blaring yellow tape. It stood out, the vile thing, capturing everybody's eyes with its large hold over the school grounds. She felt the overwhelming need to obliterate that- that horrendous object from the face of the earth.

She was so concentrated on the caution tape; it took her a few minutes to see the truly frightening thing. The body.

It was just lying there, red stained everywhere. It bled out onto the perfectly trimmed grass staining it a sickening crimson. It contaminated everything around it, spreading the death through the hard ground.

Raw guts flew out from every appendage, every organ. They stained what little was left of the torn, white skin. They wrapped around all of the body like ropes, holding it to the land of the dead.

Limbs were pointed in unnatural directions. Feet and hands were severed, and lying all over the field. The mouth was open, ready to scream for help, to call for someone, anyone who could save the poor soul. And, the eyes; the eyes were so vacant, so empty. The spirit was gone.

She registered the face. She registered the brown eyes, and spiked hair. She noticed the small, tan freckles slayed all across his cheeks like the spots on a ladybug.

She didn't connect who it was. And then it hit her, it stormed her like a rock in the face. The knowledge came relentlessly, and unforgivingly.

She wanted to call out to him. To ask him how his summer was. To scold him about staying out so late last night partying. Didn't he know today was the first day of school? Not to mention, he had been late for carpool. He should really start taking responsibility for himself.

"Sir, this is the last time I'm going to ask: This is a private crime scene, please step away."

She fell out of her trance to see a boy, probably somewhere around her age, speaking to one of the officers. He was wearing a red sweatshirt and some jeans. He was rather tall, and his eyes were a blazing red. They looked like dancing flames, enthralled in some sort of fierce tango of emotions.

By the looks of the stance both he and the officer were in, they were about ready to attack each other. Towering at about the same height, they were leaning forward, both were clenching their fists.

"I understand that. I just want to know what's going on."

"Like I said, I'm not at liberty to share that with a complete strang-"

Blossom strode forth to the police officer and demanded in a strong tone, "Excuse me, sir?"

"How can I help you young lady?" He smiled.

She pushed aside the fear beginning to bloom in her stomach and replied in a steady tone, "I believe I was a friend of th– the victim."

"Ah, well, I don't mean to be rude, but do you think maybe you could prove that somehow?" He replied in a kind tone.

"Um, yeah sure. I rode with Mitch in carpool; it's registered in the school log. Do you think you could confirm that later?"

The officer suddenly became grave, "Of course, I'm terribly sorry for your loss."

Blossom felt sickness stir up in her stomach. Her loss. He–he really is gone.

She fought the bile threatening to rise in her throat, "Thank you, do you think you could maybe tell me what's going on?"

The officer nodded, and then pointed at the guy he was talking to earlier, "He with you?"

Blossom didn't know what possessed her, but she honestly didn't have the energy to care right now. She could already feel her will begin to fall victim to the dread prowling about in her stomach.

"Um, sure, yeah." The boy shot her a look of surprise, but she wasn't really paying attention to him. She was paying attention to the gruesome scene before her.

The officer lifted the tape, and she ducked under it, beginning to follow him. She was vaguely aware of the third member of their party behind her.

"At this point, we have confirmed that an animal did this, and we don't have much else." He led her around to the body, and they stood near it.

The stench of rotting flesh, and bone hit her senses. She hadn't noticed the flies before, picking at the sticky layers of bloody guts like it was some kind of filet mignon.

She could barely keep in the vomit now. The breakfast muffin was going to force its way out of her system soon.

"We know only an extremely large creature could have done this kind of damage, so we're thinking a bear."

She stood there staring at- at what was left of Mitch. God, how horrible it is to die like this. What are his parents going to say, how are they going to make it? The body, how could they possibly show his family this?

"Keenan, I need back up on 60th and Kent immediately. I repeat I need back up immediately."

The police officer responded on his radio before turning to her, "Feel free to stay as long as you need. Again, my deepest condolences."

She nodded as he walked away. She looked around for the boy who had accompanied her. She couldn't see him anymore. Weird.

Her thoughts diverted though, soon. Raw terror and dread released from their dark confines in her body and seized her. She felt as if she had been punched in the gut ruthlessly. Her friend was destroyed.

This would always stain his memory. People would not remember him as a great friend to have around, not as the kid who ran around flirting with every other girl, not as the horribly reckless student he was. They wouldn't remember Mitch, the person.

They would remember Mitch, the body. The one whose guts were clawed out, and whose blood was all over the quad. They would remember him as that poor, innocent child who was massacred by that savage animal. And that really bothered her.

~Welcome~to~Townsville~

Brick felt pure fury begin to drown him in its deep well of rage. It clawed at him, whispering in his mind, yearning him to fall victim to its deceit. The anger wanted to be free, to tear up the entire world around him. To watch everything succumb to its mighty wrath. He could practically see red.

The manor seemed to catch on to his emotions as he soon felt them grow stronger, encroaching him in their iron clad grasp. He knew the spirits wandering the halls had woken up and were clutching at his volatile rage, hoping to control him, hoping to live once more.

"You should be careful. I can't imagine being possessed by a ghost would be particularly pleasant."

As soon as Brick recognized the voice, all of the demons he was trying so hard to keep at bay burst out. In milliseconds, Boomer's back hit the wall, creating a deafening rumble throughout the entire house. The spirits silenced.

Brick hesitated as he saw crimson liquid trickle down pale skin. How enticing it looked. If he could just get a the tiniest bit into his system, then all of the world's problems would be solved. He felt his eyes beginning to cloud in darkness. How much power he could wield if he just…

The lost souls in the house reawakened, and roared. The walls all began to shake violently, the very ground beneath the two boys began to crackle with displeasure. Screeches and cries of anger broke out from the very building itself.

Understanding what this meant immediately, Boomer grabbed a paper towel and wiped the blood, while Brick calmed himself down. The hunger began to drain, and his eyes returned to normal.

He took a deep breath and growled, "You."

Boomer stared at him, utterly confused, "What?"

"Don't give me that shit. I know that 'animal attack' was you."

Boomer's bewilderment grew, "Huh?"

Brick felt his wrath bursting out again and threw Boomer at the wall. Another rumble shuddered through the structure, but it remained silent.

"I saw the body. There was no way any normal creature could've done that. It was obviously the work of a werewolf."

Brick picked his brother up by the neck, "What, did Mojo set you up to this? This some kind of job? Because if it is, I can promise you–"

"Brick, no! I would never–"

Nevertheless, Brick would hear none of his brother's protests, "If it was you, then I swear I will–"

"Brick!" Boomer yelled "It wasn't, fucking, me!"

The red headed boy growled a final time, "You better be telling me the truth, dipshit, because the next full moon is a long ways away."

~Welcome~to~Townsville~

The door gave a light ding as it shut close. Blossom was immediately met by the distinct smell of fried food as she entered the building. The Outta Time diner had always been a favorite pastime of hers. In fact, of every kid in town. The scent of greasy bread and rank cheese automatically sent the children into frenzies waiting for the delicious treats. The incessant chatter always consuming the place, a promise of all of the fun to come with friends.

It was somewhat a comfort to be here. There was something familiar about the diner. She remembered the night before her first final of high school. She was quite a diligent student and she had been on the verge of a major breakdown. Everything just felt so hopeless. She was about to give up when she heard the telltale sound of the bell. Mitch walked into the diner, drunk and slobbering, looking like the general idiot he was. Honestly, they had been close, but she had expected no comfort from him. He was just a flippant high school student enjoying his night, why would he waste his time trying to help her with school? Not to mention, he was extremely drunk.

No, she hadn't expected even a flick of the eyes in her direction. And, that was what happened. He ordered his fatty, yet delicious food and was on his way out the door. Quick and simple, she was already back on her way to plowing through her biology book. But then, Mitch did something that surprised Blossom, and maybe even him himself. He turned around, and gave a silly, lopsided smile.

"Hey, don't worry, at least ya know you can't do as bad a me."

And with an uproarious laugh, he was out of the door. He had no idea how much he had helped her that night, just the knowledge that someone cared had pushed her through the whole school year. And now he would never know. She could barely keep the stinging sadness from prowling down her face, a physical manifestation of the demonic misery swirling in her very bones.

Blossom almost welcomed the vibrant shade of orange situated in the dim corner of the room. The brilliant radiance coming from the color made it completely impossible to mistake who it belonged to. Hundreds of questions buzzed through her head, but there was no hesitation as to what she wanted to do. It was just a question of approaching him now, at the diner, or later. She couldn't stop her curiosity from winning the interior battle, and eventually began to stroll towards the table from which the bright hair originated.

As she passed, she received greetings from many of the waitresses. She genuinely smiled at them, these women were more than just people who served food; they were like family. They had integrated themselves solidly into her childhood; her life wouldn't have been the same without their interventions. She remembered Betty not only giving advice to her about her first crush, but thoroughly stalking the poor boy to make sure he was 'right for her'. Or when Margaret had taught her how to drive when Blossom told the woman the Professor did not want to. And the time Caroline forced her to sit down for the 'birds and bees' talk. That was a fun one. Never before had she heard sex being equated to waffles. She suppressed a shudder at the last thought, but still could not wipe the smile off of her face.

She finally reached the circular booth in the shadowy corner of the diner. It seemed the darkness was actually jumping out towards her, like it was trying to take hold of her soul for some reason. How weird, the diner never had this kind of atmosphere about it; not even the more dimly lit sections. It was almost like the gloom was originating from him.

She lowered herself until she felt the torn plastic of the booth supporting her form. Clasping her hands on the rough wood of the table, she finally observed the man in front of her fully. He had a certain sinister element about him, almost evil. He was extremely pale, so much so that she might've said he was fatally ill if his- his, um- chest wasn't so, well, noticeable. She could actually feel the red course through her body, and grabbing a hold of her cheeks, not allowing her to hide her embarrassment. She continued through with her examination. His expression was one of boredom and nonchalance as he scanned over a menu. But there was something else, something different. Despair, maybe? Anger? It was too subtle to tell for her. His eyes were the color of flames, but it was like there was a curtain of sheer black covering the dancing of the fire. It almost made them look like- like they were blood red. But, his hair, his hair was different. It was so bright, so brilliant, so-

"Can I help you?"

Her head snapped up, "Hm?"

"Is there a reason you're sitting at my table?"

Embarrassment flooded through her veins again. Her face stained red. She looked away from him. How utterly stupid of her, she hadn't even planned what she was going to say to him. She should probably say something tactical, something that would get her the answers she need, something brilliant. Instead she said,

"Are you new to town?"

Blossom mentally face-palmed. Could she come across as more ditzy? He probably thought she was some class-A blonde.

The guy raised his eyebrow, "Yes."

She tried to appear friendly, "I thought so, I've never seen you around before, and Townsville is a fairly small place."

She laughed nervously when he didn't reply. Frustration whirled at the forefront of her mind. She had to curl her fingers to keep from fidgeting with the stained napkin in front of her. What was wrong with him? Who just sits there when they're being spoken to? Never mind the fact that she had basically forced herself to his table. It was still rude.

"My name's Blossom by the way." She tried again.

Brick, on the other hand was having much more intense feelings. He could feel the fire slowly being lit to the fuse in his mind, his rage so painstakingly close to erupting again. He had come here to sooth himself from his 'conversation' with Boomer, and now this God awful girl was so close to abolishing all of his hard work. Why, in seven Hells, couldn't she just leave him the fuck alone. Sitting down at his table, forcing him to converse with her, not taking a hint.

"Who wants to know?" He feigned nonchalance, continuing to seethe inside.

Blossom held her eyes in place, he still wasn't even looking at her. Why couldn't he just get his nose out of his menu? Where were his manners? All she wanted was a little acknowledgement.

"What can I get for ya'll today?"

She looked up to see Margaret standing in front of them in the signature pastel pink and apron. She had a pen and notepad at the ready, expectant eyes on the table her and Brick were sitting at.

"I'll have the chicken pot pie." The orange-haired man's sultry voice responded coolly. How was he so detached? She could feel her exasperation bouncing off of the walls in her mind, and he just sat there, ordering food?

Margaret smiled, "Sure, anything for you dear?"

Blossom was so busy attempting to rein back her glare; she didn't even realize the waitress was talking to her.

"Blossom?"

This time, the young girl heard the words and turned. She saw Margaret's soft, concerned eyes and smiled. The last thing she needed was for the girls to go violent on the guy.

"No thanks Marg, I'm fine." She quickly reassured her.

The older woman sent one last glance Blossom's way before walking back to the odorous kitchen.

"Brick."

Blossom's head snapped back to the person across from her, "Excuse me?"

The guy shrugged, meeting her eyes for the first time, "My name, it's Brick."

"Oh, um that's interesting."

Blossom flushed. She really should have planned out this conversation. She had absolutely no idea how she was going to get to her originally planned topic, but she had to do. It was nagging her now, snipping at her subconscious demanding to be released. She had to have an answer. So why beat around the bush?

"What were you doing at the crime scene?"

It was his turn to show some emotion, "Excuse me?"

She continued on, "I mean I don't believe you know-"

She paused. All the emotions from the hour were starting to rise again, ready to hit at her walls until they cracked, but she wouldn't let them, not just yet.

"-knew Mitch. But you had such a desire to know what happened to him. Why?"

He was silent for a few minutes, before taking a sip from his drink.

"Curious bystander." He replied lightly.

Blossom's suspicion flared, and she could no longer contain her glare. It broke out, and her whole body soon followed, adopting defensive features.

"No, it was more than that. You were about ready to get into a fist fight with that cop."

"He was frustrating me."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah."

"Then why, pray tell, didn't you just leave once he backed off?"

"As previously stated, I was curious."

"Why are you lying?"

"I'm not."

Blossom comes to a standstill, what is she supposed to say? She had no proof of anything, not to mention she was the one who let him into the crime scene with her.

"Fine. It was nice to meet you Brick." She responds through grit teeth as she rises from her seat.

She pushes back her rising anger rising from within her chest. How dare he pretend to actually care about Mitch? Brick didn't even know him. He was just lying his way through to innocence, disgracing her friend's memory. He didn't know about how no matter how drunk Mitch got, he was still there for Blossom. About how he would always stand up for her when she was picked on as a kid. About how he would always tease her when she felt down just to get her to laugh.

She stopped in her tracks. So many memories she had been avoiding the since that day were coming back. The time when she had to help Mitch home after he got hit by a car, how he was still laughing. Or when he smashed a fistful of cake in her face on her sixteenth birthday. Even when he tripped her and she broke her nose, hitting a locker. It just wasn't possible. Mitch couldn't be dead. He just couldn't.

~Welcome~to~Townsville~

Brick ran a hand through his hair, submersed in unbridled rage. It kindled at his control, begging him to just let loose. To take this repulsive diner out by the seams, to rob the life from it, to hear the screams of those infuriating humans as their souls drained from their bodies. To see the light slowly exit their eyes, and their muscles give in to the claws of death. To witness the color drain from their skin and their very core stop sounding. To have just a tad of that sweet, restoring blood…

Holy fuck, his ancestors had only given them two rules to follow, and they were still managing to break them. And it was only him and Boomer in town. God forbid the last one comes… He shook his head; he had enough issues to deal with at his point.

"Your chicken pot pie'll be out in a minute sir." The waitress called to him.

He was in no mood to eat now. Besides, people were already getting suspicious. That Blossom chick was just the kid's friend, and she was grilling him. What would happen when someone actually important started poking around? He would be screwed, eternally for that matter. He shuddered just at the thought of the torture the spirits would inflict on him if this got too far. He sighed, and threw some money down on the table. Rising, he sullenly sauntered towards the door. He pushed it open, and was met with a burst of cool air brushing over his face. The freshness tamed his anger, if only just a miniscule amount. Taking a few steps away from the door, he looked around in all directions. After he was completely assured that the coast was clean, he took off.

He felt the cold air pelt into him like a wall. It ran through his body, comforting all of the restless feelings coursing through his veins. He felt free from his emotional cage as he glided on the wind; the liberty that comes only from the natural world engulfing his mind. He almost wanted to smile, almost.

He opened his eyes as the peace faded when he came to an abrupt stop. The edginess returning to his blood, clawing at his skin. It swirled around in his center, constantly attacking his careful restraint. He took a deep breath and forcefully shoved all of them down, focusing on the task at hand.

The school was veiled in absolute silence. A single light flickered in the very right of the campus barely holding back the infringing darkness. The air was still frigid, grasping onto his skin, pulling the heat from his bones. It was hard to believe that this place was so full of life, of youth during the day. At this time in the night, it seemed dead; a place that lost souls would search for their long gone lovers. A place full of eerie mystery and buried secrets. In a way, that's what high school was though. Here lay dead friendships, and innocent loves broken. Here lay untold rumors, and whispers. Here lay abandoned fights, and sorrowful tears of outcasts. Here, where they build the future, lay the past.

He stepped towards the bright, yellow tape, ignoring its message and gluing his eyes to the ground around him. The grass no longer had the bright red hue to it, but was now a somber yellow patch. The body (and all of its extremities) was gone, but the revolting stench of rotting flesh remained. The aura of death lingered, swirling around the air, working its way into his lungs.

He felt his hunger begin to react to the sensations the situation was sending toward him. He quickly scanned the scene, and found there was no danger in indulging himself for a while. He allowed his eyes to roll over, showing pure black instead. Dark veins began to run down his cheeks, coursing under his skin. Some relief washed over him, and his shoulders grew less tense now that he no longer had to hold such a strong barrier.

Brick glanced around the grass, searching for any signs of a large creature. Everything seemed perfectly normal, like this could have been done by a bear or a coyote. There were no claws lying around, or shredded clothes. No discarded meat, or bags. There had been no damage to any of the surroundings, trees and buildings were still standing. The road next to the school remained more or less unharmed. Maybe he had been wrong, maybe it wasn't a werewolf. Maybe it was just a normal creature. Then again, the damage done to the body…

He kicked the ground out of frustration, and dirt came flying from its resting place. A large hole the size of his foot was lying on the earth. He gazed down at it for a few minutes before leaning down. There, in the ground, was a bright yellow vine, climbing down further than his eyes could see. He couldn't help himself from standing there, staring at the radiant flowers bursting through the mud. When his mind had finally completed the thought process, he stood. The was only one God-damn person in this town who could help him with this. He felt the rush of the icy wind hit his body, but this time was too stunned to take in the tranquility. Within seconds, Brick had arrived at Josiah Manor.

Putting his hand onto the solid, stone wall, he felt the familiar sensation of the air being knocked out of his body as the stones began to merge into one. He was roughly compelled forward into the building. As soon as he had crossed the threshold, he felt his emotions spike. Their grasp on him became iron clad, and he could already feel himself beginning to drown in his feelings. This house was really getting old. He mentally cursed himself at that thought, and immediately made to fix his grievous mistake.

"Iartă-mă, stăpânii mei. Te implor milă de voi, și iertare pentru blasfemie mea, astfel încât sufletul meu ar putea fi salvate."

"Bro, if you're already thinking rude things about the ancestors, you're so screwed."

Brick snarled at Boomer, "Why is it that you're always just hanging around?"

His blonde brother shrugged, "I can leave-"

"Catch."

Brick threw a yellow flower at Boomer. The boy caught it, and instantly felt a searing pain scorching through his skin. It felt as if it was burning through his very bones, like he would fall apart at any moment. It worked its way into his brain, making him feel as if he was actually dying in Hell's flames. His whole body felt like it was bursting in fire. He hissed and dropped the flower once he recognized the torturous sensation.

"What the fuck?"

"So I was right."

"You knew and yet you still gave it to me?"

"Pretty much."

"Well, why the Hell was it yellow?"

"I was actually wondering if you had any ideas."

Boomer considered for a moment.

"I think I may have a thought. Was it growing on a root?"

"Yeah."

"Underground?"

Brick nodded, "Under the schools grounds where that kid was killed."

"Think we can go there?"

"Sure, there's no one there right now anyway."

"Alright, let's go."

This time, they had to walk at normal pace because Boomer did not have super speed; not at this time of month anyway.

Brick stared at the night sky. It was so gorgeous, so elusive. The perfect blackness enshrouded an entire side of this world. Demons and evil spirits prowled the grounds under this scene. Sinister forces came alive at this time, worshiping the dark curtain veiling the earth. Their master, the very essence of everything wicked and foul, everything that is wrong with this world.

As the dark silhouette of the school came into view, Boomer broke the silence,

"God, sometimes I really wish I could be one of you."

Brick scoffed, "Trust me, you don't."

"Yeah, but if I had a choice I wouldn't want to be one of us either."

"What, Mojo's errand boy isn't happy with the family gift?"

"Where'd you find it?"

"What?"

"The wolfsbane? Where is it?"

Brick stared at Boomer until he realized they were at the school by now.

"It's in the huge hole."

"Huh?"

"The huge hole in the ground, dipshit. What, have you lost your hearing, wolfie?"

"No, vampie, there is no hole in the ground."

"What?"

Brick was by his brother's side in a second, searching the ground for a mark. It- it was gone. The ground was completely filled with grass, patched evenly. There were no signs of any disruption, everything was perfectly in order.

"No, it was here. I kicked up the dirt myself. I'm a goddamn vampire, it was probably a mile long hole for Christ's sake!"

"Are you abso-"

They were both sent into a state of mild shock when they heard it. It was a faint sound, one that only things like them could pick up. It was a single shrill and piercing noise, followed by an eerie silence. Both of the boys attempted to pick out another signal, anything to indicate that their hearing was not failing them. When Brick heard nothing, he did the next best thing.

"Did you hear that?"

"Yeah."

They both exchanged a glance and Brick was already sprinting in the direction of the forest. He relished in the calm before the storm as he passed by the trees, listening to their soft whispers. A dreadful silence seemed to have fallen over the creatures of the forest, no signs of life were anywhere. Just the continuing murmurs of the flora. His state of unease was only heightened when he saw the trail of crimson on the ivory leaves of the forest floor. A muffled growling noise came to his ears, causing him to tense. He headed in the direction of the low sound, and was brought to a small clearing. His mind was reeling at the sight of raw flesh being tossed around, and the sound of skin being ripped piece by piece rang in his sensitive ears. Deep red blood was squirting in every direction, leaving the lovely greenery a sickening cherry color. The young woman's empty hazel eyes were staring straight at him, the life already drained from her body.

Suddenly, the violence halted. He was met with a second pair of eyes, obsidian ones boring straight into his own. They held a tone of sinister evil, unlike the innocent, bright ones of its victim. The wolf itself was magnificently huge, and graceful, demanding respect with its stature. Its shining fur matched its eyes, blending in with the night sky behind it. Its teeth were stained a deadly red, and pieces of flesh were layered over the rows of gloriously sharp blades. Its face was held up in an ominous snarl. Low rumbling noises were emitting from its throat, the threat was obvious. Just as he was ready to defend himself, it turned and bounded away. He stood there cautiously for a few minutes until the soft patter of footsteps faded.

Silence consumed the forest. Even the trees were mute, quietly shedding tears for the loss of life. No animals stepped forward to eat the remains, everything had come to a standstill. All had begun mourning for the tragic death of such a pure looking girl. Brick stood, digesting what had just happened.

"What was that?"

Sickening panic curled in his stomach. Fuck, that was not Boomer's voice. He pushed down the storm of emotions threatening to come forth and seize control of his mind. He whirled in the direction of the sound, and the alarm in his bones flared. Blossom. He heard her gasp.

"Wha-what's wrong with your eyes?"

Brick's hand flew up to his cheek bone, and unsurprisingly, he felt small bumps across his skin. He immediately reigned in his adrenaline, forcing down the will to attack. It continued to flare up so he took a calming breath, and attempted to block the feral thoughts storming his mind. The swelling ceased, and he opened his eyes. Blossom spoke again,

"What is going on?"

"It's none of your business."

"You're right, it's the police's."

The red headed girl turned to leave, but she felt a strong force grab her from behind and fling her into a tree. She cringed at the pain caused by the jagged exterior of bark. Her head was stinging, and the world started to spin. She desperately attempted to claw onto her consciousness, but it continued to slip out of her grasp. A horrible sensation came over her, pure and raw terror. This was it for her, this was the end. She would surely never see her sister again, nor her father. She would never be able to finish school, never get to go to prom. She wouldn't get her first boyfriend, or her first kiss. She would never reach her dreams, never go to college. All of these panicked thoughts faded as her vision did. The last thing she saw was Brick, standing in front of her, his eyes like never-ending black holes; his front teeth grown into fangs. He looked- he looked like a vampire.

Brick's anxiety melted once he saw the red trailing down the tree trunk. Oh, how everything would be fixed if he could just have one drop. Just the tiniest bit, and this would all be over. He would be free to do what he wanted. Forget about those insolent ancestors, they were just trying to hold him back. They didn't want him to be as powerful as they were, they didn't want the best for him, they were only looking out for themselves.

Boomer ran into this scene, panting. He examined his surroundings. A nice looking girl lay on the floor, her insides torn out and vital appendages lying all over the ground. Her eyes were open and unflinching, and her blood was staining everything around her. Her head was missing its skin on the right side, and her scalp was half torn out of her body. He figured it was fairly safe to say that she was dead. Another red headed girl was propped against the truck of a tree. Her eyes were closed and her form was slouched, but the rise and fall of her chest inclined him to believe that she, unlike the other unfortunate soul ten feet away, was alive. And finally, Brick was standing there, staring at the blood stained on the tree trunk by the living girl, his form stiff, but leaning towards the red liquid. Boomer would have to be very delicate about this…

"Ha, told ya it wasn't me! Suck my dick bitch!"

Brick snapped to and whirled on Boomer who simply stood there with a stupid smile on his face. God, why did he have to get stuck with the most infuriating family on this planet? Not even his fucking dead relatives would shut up. He mentally relished in the fact that he wasn't at the manor, and locked eyes with his dumbass of a brother.

"Let's just clean this up already."

~Welcome~to~Townsville~

She became aware of an irritating throbbing consistently pounding in the back of her head. It grew stronger and stronger, knocking on the sides of her consciousness. She felt herself being pulled from the serene calm of her mind and her senses slowly came to life. Below her, the tingling sensation of something soft was igniting at the tips of her fingers. She ran her hands down a little further, feeling the smooth texture underneath her. She definitely recognized the feeling, but she wasn't quite sure what it was. Blossom opened her eyes, and saw she was sitting on a brown, velvet couch. The light cushions were supported by sturdy gold frames, and jewels coated the whole structure. She looked around, and became aware of large walls made of the same materials. Rich fabric hung from the ceiling, and old, classic paintings hung on the walls. She stared at the sight a moment longer, and then her hearing came into focus. She could barely make out two deeply male voices in the next room.

"-if we kill her, the ancestors will kill us."

"I don't understand why you can't just compel her."

"I told you dumbass, I'm not good at it."

"I don't think this is a situation to doubt yourself in, Casanova."

"No, Boomer, if I do it and fail then it's possible her memories could come back to her anytime. It won't work."

Blossom got up, attempting to rise by grabbing at the table beside her, but felt the hot tendrils of pain wrap around her legs. She fell to the floor below her quietly, praying silently that it was quiet enough. It wasn't and in seconds, Brick came into her direct vision. His pale skin had no blemishes, and his eyes had returned to the sinister red she had seen. He was looking at her menacingly, as if he were ready to end her pathetic life soon.

"Well, seeing as you two seem to be such good friends, I might as well introduce myself. I'm Boomer, the asshole's brother."

For the first time, she noticed the other being in the room. He was, well, he looked like the complete opposite of Brick. His bright blue eyes shone with a lightness, yet somehow they bore wisdom. His sandy hair went down to his shoulders, flowing in free locks. His smile was mischievous and joking. Laughter practically radiated off of his form in masses.

"And you are?"

Blossom's thoughts halted. What was she supposed to say? Was she supposed to give her kidnapper her identity? Then again, Brick did already know… And this guy seemed decent.

"Blossom."

"And do you go to school, Blossom?"

"Um, yes."

"Really? Is it hard?"

"Ce naiba crezi că faci, idiotule?" Brick suddenly hissed at his brother.

"Ce ți se pare? Sunt fiind prietenos." The other boy responded.

"Și cum se că o să ne ajute?"

"Uită-te la Brick ei, e îngrozită. Vom obține nimic de la ea ca aceasta."

Brick glanced at the girl for a second. It seemed that was all it took him to examine her entire soul because he answered,

"Fine, go on."

Boomer turned to the perplexed girl in the room. That brilliant smile spred on his face, the one that could convince people a saint was standing in front of them. It enticed her into to trust him, to sell her very soul to him. Her paralyzing terror subdued, if only a tiny bit, and she gave a small smile back. If only she had known the truth, waht evil she was surrounded by; she would have acted a bit more careful.

"So, Blossom, can you tell me what you remember about the time before you blacked out?"

She froze, and the smile faded. Oh no, if they found out she had seen- well, what she had seen, they were going to kill her. Pure panic siezed her mind, jumbling all of her thoughts. She couldn't bring any words to her lips, her tongue had rebelled; refusing to move. She attempted to do anything, anything at all to reassure them. She tried to force her features into a look of confusion, to make her eyes alight in mock bewilderment. But she was fear's puppet right now, unable to take control of her own actions. The hesitation cost her dearly.

"I told you; she saw everything." Brick muttered under his breath.

She ripped free of her emotions, "A-all I remember is following Brick into the woods, and hitting my he-head."

She cursed herself as soon as the shaky sentence worked its way out of her mouth. She sounded so wobbly; even she didn't believe herself. But Boomer just continued smiling.

"It's ok, you can tell us the truth. I won't hurt you."

Blossom took note of his use of 'I'. Impulsively, she shot her eyes frightfully toward Brick. Boomer saw this action, and turned to his brother.

"Brick won't either, isn't that right, frate?"

He was responded to with a vicious growl. Boomer's eyes darkened, something sinister releasing into his pale blue irises. They looked like claws reaching around his eyes, threatening, menacing, evil. It was only them that she realized her mistake. Her horrible, fatal mistake. Neither of these men were looking out for her; they would both kill her as soon as they got answers. And she trusted one of them, digging herself deeper and deeper into her own grave.

"Brick…"

"Blestemul zeilor, fine."

The wickedness left his expression, and the smile alighted once again. She stared into those eyes once again, seeing the perfect picture of tenderness. He looked as if he wanted to be her friend, like he truly wanted to help her. So innocent, she almost fell into it again. Almost.

"I told you; I don't know anything."

She regretted the words instantly; his expression was no longer gentle, but back to that terrifying malice. Sheer horror overcame her, and she barely held back a whimper. She suddenly felt as if the air had left her lungs; her whole body falling under the spell of numbness. And then a swift talon of pain crawled up her spine. A burning sensation tore up her back, torturing the skin on her spine as it passed. She gasped, searching for the sweet sensation of breath, but felt nothing. She clawed for life, but it continued to move away from her hold. She clenched her eyes shut, water slowling running from them.

"Now Blossom, I really didn't want it to come to this; a promise is a promise after all, but you've forced my hand. And to think I was being so nice too, what a waste."

Boomer's words expressed regret, but his expression showed he didn't quite feel so bad. Blossom continued to writhe in his grasp, desperately reaching for breath. But he was too strong, so strong, she realized in a moment of clarity; he wasn't human either. Her will to rebel took its last blow at that point. She was stuck in a room with two creatures, much more powerful than her; the only reason for her being alive was that they had chose to let her continue with existence. And now, they had chosen to stop.

She didn't even realize it when a loud shriek errupted, and the room was enshrouded in blackness. Fragments of glass clattered on the floor, and everything fell silent. Boomer's grip tightened the tiniest bit, and she swiftly gulped in some air.

"Shit, they're fucking pissed." Brick's voice rang out of the darkness.

"Exactly why we should kill her now."

Blossom felt the air running from her lungs again, and panicked. Three voices rang out at the same time then.

"Boomer, no!"

"EEEEEEEHHHHHH!"

"I can help you!"

All froze at the house's unholy shriek. The very building seemed ready to destroy Boomer if he squeezed again. All of them could feel the pure rage circling in the air. Dozens of eyes seemed to be watching the three, daring the living to defy them again. The only sound left in the room was Blossom's heavy breathing, a deathly silence enshrouded them. Boomer was the first to recover and turned to the girl in his grasp.

"What do you mean?"

Blossom stared at the blonde boy in confusion for a minute, and then remembered her last words.

"You guys want to stop the wolf thing, right?"

The two brothers exchanged an unsure glance before Boomer turned back to her and nodded,

"The werewolf."

Blossom cringed. So that's what it was. Of course, werewolves and vampires all around Townsville. What's next? Ghosts?

She continued breathlessly, "You can't stop it because you don't know where it's going to attack; you don't know who its victim's going to be. But if you could control who it's going to kill…"

"We would know not only where, but when it's going to attack." Brick cut in.

Blossom nodded, "The werewolf could obviously sense what you were since it ran away when it saw you, but if you were to use a human victim then you would have the ultimate advantage."

Boomer raised his eyebrow, "And you want to be that person?"

Again, the girl nodded, "That thing killed my friend, and it's going to pay."

She cringed when Boomer dropped her onto the floor. Her hands automatically flew to her throbbing neck. She processed the conversation she just had; she volunteered herself for a werewolf hunt. Oh God, what was happening? Since when did her life become so complicated? She felt as if she were drowning in a pool of cruel circumstances. She just wanted to go home, and pretend this never happened. She wanted to be at home, worrying about studying or talking about politics with the Professor. Heck, she even wanted to be hanging out with Bubbles. What had she done? Why couldn't she just mind her own business?

"Meet us at the edge of Pokey Oaks road by the forest tomorrow night then."

Boomer's smile was back, but now it just seemed eerie to her. Like a psychotic kind happy, like he took satisfaction in hurting other people. Just staring at him made her mind reel, and her stomach churn. Nausea began to wrap itself around her, and she felt her insides rising up her throat. She was going to be sick. Luckily, Brick broke her thought chain.

"Be there. Or we will find you."

Blossom nodded, and began to exit the large building.

~Welcome~to~Townsville~

"Are you sure you're okay dear?"

No, she was definitely not okay. Not even in the remote vicinity of okay. The entire day had just been a mass bundle of nerves clawing away at her psyche. She was quite positive she had failed that math test first period, and then she couldn't even look at her lunch without bile rising in her throat. And she was getting ready to go on a werewolf hunt with a vampire and whatever Boomer was. In an hour she would be coming face to face with the creature that killed her friend, and she would throw herself into the very same danger. So, no, Blossom was not okay, but she smiled anyways.

"Yeah Professor, I'm fine."

"Alright honey, have fun."

Great, now she felt even worse. What kind of person lies to the kindest father in the world? Sure, she had told white lies here and there about how much coffee she drank, or the cost of a book, but never something like this. Never something life changing, never something that could destroy their very relationship. She felt the same sickness that had bothered her all day push itself forward from the deep confines of her body. Her head began spinning, and her body felt like a dozen rocks.

"I will. Bye dad."

Blossom kissed his cheek, and practically sprinted out of the door. Pausing once she was on the road, she held her head for a few seconds, allowing it to clear a little. She continued to walk, staring at her surroundings. The sun was beginning to roll its way down the clear, blue sky. Orange exploded on the canvas, and the clouds were floating down their path. The perfect view was obscured by large treetops, resting in front of the sky. Dozens of little bushes rested below them, staring upward at the gorgeous sight as well. The fresh air slithered up her nostrils, clearing her mind. She felt lighter now, and a smile crept onto her face at the euphoric feeling of the present scene.

She soon came to the end of Pokey Oaks Road, and set her bag down. She took a seat next to it, feeling the tingling sensation of rough grass tickle her legs. Leaning back, she noticed that this part of the forest was much thicker, the trees nearly hugging one another, and small bushes rising in between the larger plants. The closed environment made everything seem much darker and secluded.

"Sorry we're late, just had to get some things ready before we came."

She turned back to see Boomer standing behind her, smiling, and Brick next him, scowling. She felt ill once again, so much so that she was sure her skin was going green. Her nerves aroused, taking a heavy toll on her whole body.

"It's fine."

"So, Blossom, how was school?"

"Good."

"Cool, cool. Not too stressful I hope?"

"Nope."

"Can we just get this over with?" Brick snapped.

"Alright, jeez, pull the stick out of your ass.."

Boomer led the way into the torrent of enormous trees. The forest was vast, plants snatching at their legs everywhere they walked. There were no signs of animals anywhere; it was almost like they were afraid, like they knew what was going to happen tonight. Deathly silence filled the air, curling around everyone's ears, giving them a sickly eerie feeling. The sun continued to set about them, blackness beginning to grasp at the ground. Boomer kept going a litter farther, and then stopped at a less dense area of the forest.

"Okay, Blossom, here's what Brick and I were thinking. You would just walk around in circles out here, and since werewolves have sensitive ears, the thing would pick up your footsteps and find you itself. Once it gets here, we'll take care of the rest."

"You're sure it will try to attack me?"

Brick nodded, "You're within its normal range of a hunting ground, and you're easy food. Just standing there, lost and helpless, you're the perfect prey. Werewolves like to eat, it'll come to you."

"Okay."

"We'll hide in some bushes around here, if anything goes wrong, just call out." Boomer smiled at her.

Despite how much Blossom had grown to fear that smile, her nerves were eating her alive right now and it was reassuring so she returned the gesture. The two boys disappeared, and she began to pace around in circles, making sure to be a little too loud. As she walked, she felt raw fear begin to drag her under its power. It gripped at her very bones, sending chills down her spine. The darkness grew thicker until the night sky blanketed the heavens. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, but it was of no avail. Terror just kept lapping at the surface of her mind. She began to fidget with her shirt while she walked. Why had she agreed to do this? She mentally slapped herself. She was so foolish at times, not thinking things through, acting impulsively. This was all her fault anyways, she shouldn't have followed Brick.

Snap.

She froze in her place, fresh panic bursting through her stomach. Glancing around, she saw nothing but black.

"Hello? Is somebody there?"

She attempted to scan the area better, but then,

Snap.

"Hello?"

Snap.

Still nothing. Her breathing picked up, and she couldn't even move anymore, horror had taken reign in her mind.

Snap.

"Brick, Boomer?"

No response, just as she was about to speak again, an ear splitting scream broke out from somewhere farther away. Blossom took off in the direction the noise came from, and froze. There it was, with someone else's leg in its mouth. Its eyes were deep black, and reflected a maliciousness that caused her terror to flare. It was enormous, taking up the size of two trees, and its teeth were like dozens of sharp knives. Its black fur reflected the moonlight, and began to shine. Its paws were draped in a sickening red color, and flesh covered its nose.

"Please, help me." The young woman screamed.

Blossom felt a gust of wind, and turned to see Brick next to her. His eyes were two black holes, and dark veins climbed their way down his face. His teeth were drawn back into a snarl, revealing his lengthy fangs. The wolf stopped its carnage when it saw him, and devoured the girl's head whole. It dropped the body, revealing a neatly sliced through neck. Blossom shuddered. Before the thing could run off like the last time though, Brick charged at it. He was inhumanly quick, pushing it down to the ground, causing it to reach up and bite clean through his shoulder.

Crack.

Brick's bone was pushed out of his body, a clean white blemish in this scene of black. The boy hissed, giving the wolf enough time to push him off of itself. Rising, Brick stared at it, and vice versa. They seemed to analyze each other for a minute before the creature growled and ran forward. Brick ducked out of the way, but could not avoid its claws scratching through his back, cutting clear through the bone. He fell to the ground, and the wolf pounced on top of him, jaws snapping down at his face. It successfully made contact once, biting through his nose, sending crimson blood flying everywhere. Just as it got dangerously close again, a thunderous boom rang out.

The trees shivered, and an eerie hush covered the forest. The werewolf paused, its eyes wide, and let out a whimper. Staying in its position above Brick for a minute, it then collapsed. A deafening booming noise was heard as its body slammed the cold earth. Its black eyes remained open, its stare piercing through all of the shrubbery. Its black fur remained shiny, and its teeth were in a snarling position. A single red mark, small in length, ruined the perfection as it tore down its chest where its opponent had gotten his first shot in.

"What the fuck took you so long asshole?" Brick's angry voice was muffled under the wolf.

Boomer smirked, "Sorry, I decided to take the scenic route."

"Fuck you."

Blossom silently observed the fallen form, and suddenly gasped. Its bones were cracking, and muscles moving. Flesh was being discarded, and blood was flowing free. Its teeth were shrinking, and its hair was shedding. Skin began to cover its bones, and limbs snapped in different directions.

"What's going on?" She blurted.

"It's changing back to its human form." Boomer replied.

She watched as things continued to move, starting to form what looked like a human body. And then, she noticed it. The pastel pink skirt and shirt, the perfect white sneakers. The small white apron hanging over the waist.

"No."

She rushed over to the body as Brick pushed it off of him.

"No, no this isn't possible."

Blossom cried out, and flipped the body over. Her mind froze. Shock overcame her, not allowing her to make any movements. It refused to let her analyze the scene, there was no way this was possible, it was just a dream. This wasn't real, it couldn't be. And then, numbing sadness strangled her. Tears stung at her eyes, and sobs clouded her throat. She felt despair caress her arms, forcing her to hold the dead body in front of her. Her condition got worse as she stared into those brown eyes, a single bullet in between them. Depression squeezed at her heart, wiling for it to break, waiting for the tears to fall.

"Hey, wasn't she a waitress at that diner?" Brick asked.

Blossom cleared her throat, "Yeah, Margaret."

Silence took hold of the group as Blossom continued to stare into her dead friend's eyes. The tears began to fall, and her heart shattered. Her will depleted, and the sobs broke out of her throat. How was it possible that she could lose two of her closest friends in a matter of days? Did God hate her? Did she do something bad? Because if she did, she would do anything to make it right, anything to bring her friends ba-

A shrilling siren could be heard in the distance. Everyone immediately locked eyes.

"We gotta get out of here." Brick stated.

Blossom nodded, and looked one last time at Margaret's body before closing her eyes.

She spoke as she got up, "Let's go."

Brick nodded, and began to lead the way out. Blossom followed him, with Boomer close behind. The last thing they heard was the police radio.

"This is Officer Keenan, I got two dead down here by Pokey Oaks Road, requesting backup."

~Welcome~to~Townsville~

The cold nipped at her nose, causing red to fly across her face. The sun was rising, bringing with it an ethereal brightness, to which she shielded her eyes from. The freezing wind continued to assault her body, forcing her to wrap her scarf tighter around her neck. The town was peacefully veiled in a soft quiet, people still resting after the hardships of the week. A bird was chirping somewhere in the distance, its high pitched voice adding to the serenity of the moment. She continued to walk aimlessly, taking in the sight of all the proud standing trees next to the road. She cringed, trees were just an unwelcomed reminder, a reminder that lives had been lost in those thick confines. A reminder of all the horrific tragedies that had claimed Townsville in the past week. Her heart threatened to shatter as she recalled the events that had occurred. Young lives had been wasted, ripped apart by the seams, including one of her friend's. They could have done so much, could have been so much, but those chances were ripped from them. At the same time, she couldn't bring herself to hate the person responsible. After all, Margaret had been her friend as well. She had her whole life ahead of her too. Confusion and uncertainty swirled around in Blossom's mind, she was lost. She didn't know what to blame, what to express her anger towards. She couldn't blame the victims, she couldn't blame the killer.

The young girl paused when she was where she was standing, The Outta Time Diner. Posters covered the wall, expressing the grief the waitresses must have been going through. "Donate five dollars with your meal to help find Margaret's killer." Above it was the face of the young woman they were petitioning for. Youthful and bright, a brilliant smile pulling her lips. Her brown hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her matching eyes were shining with glee. The perplexity Blossom was feeling only flared. These poor women were looking for Margaret's killer, but what they didn't know was that Margaret was the killer. She sighed, ignoring the wild emotions bouncing inside her mind, and went inside. What happened didn't change the fact that these girls were her friends, Marg was her friend, and she should at least give her condolences.

Walking in, she saw Betty, seated by the bar, surrounded by a few other women. The old waitresses' sobs rang distinctly, echoing in the building. Blossom forced down her tumultuous feelings, and walked over to them. She reached there, and stood in silence for a few minutes, words refusing to leave her mouth.

"Oh, Blossom."

Betty reached out for her, pulling her into a hug. The younger girl cringed, feeling uncomfortable. Like she couldn't mourn, not like them, not knowing what was really going on. She hesitantly raised her arms, and patted the weeping woman's back.

"I'm so sorry Betty." She said softly.

The waitress pulled back from Blossom and wiped her eyes.

"Oh dear, Margaret would be laughing right now if she saw how much attention she was getting."

Everyone laughed with Betty, and Blossom offered her condolences one last time before walking toward the door. That familiar feeling of nausea was swirling around in the pit of her stomach, and her head began to painfully ache. These poor people, they would never know the truth. They would go their whole lives without answers, believing a lie. It made bile rise up in her throat, the thought that they loved that girl so much, and they couldn't even know how she died, what she was.

"Hey, Blossom!"

Her head snapped around, and she was greeted by the sight of Boomer waving her over from one of the booths. She wasn't quite sure if she wanted to go over there, after all that could just bring back unwanted memories, but these were the only people who knew the truth other than her, and sitting with them might be a comfort. She walked over and slid into the booth next to him.

"Hey."

"I'm surprised you came over here, I expected you to run like the wind when you saw us." Brick's dry voice replied across from her.

Blossom shrugged, "Anywhere's better than over there."

She nodded in the waitress's direction and continued, "It's so sad thinking that all of their mourning is wrong, th-that if they knew all of the details they may have reacted differently."

Boomer shrugged this time, "I don't think they would."

Blossom looked at him, puzzled, "What do you mean?"

"Well, Brick saw some yellow Wolfsbane at the school grounds where the first victim was killed. There's an old legend, that's not so fictional, telling about people who don't know they're werewolves leaving trails of the stuff behind."

"Wait, so if she wasn't aware, how long do you think she- well you know?"

Brick responded, "Not long. Only new wolves are free to turn whenever, the rest are bound to the moon. She was probably turned recently."

He sent a scathing glare at Boomer, who held his hands up,

"I swear, it wasn't me."

Blossom looked at them both, confused, "Wait, what?"

Boomer explained, "Werewolves are turned when they get bitten by other werewolves, but I haven't even had a chance to turn in Townsville yet. It couldn't have been me."

Blossom felt pure frustration build up in her bones. Great, so that's what he was, a werewolf. How did she get stuck with all these things? What did she ever do so wrong that she deserved this? Before she could respond though, they were greeted by a high pitched voice,

"What can I get for you guys' tod- Oh, hey Blossom!"

The mentioned girl looked up to see Bubbles standing there in that same, awful, pink pastel uniform.

"Bubbles, what are you doing here?" Blossom asked her sister.

"Oh, well, I volunteered to work at the diner for a while so the girls wouldn't have to." Bubbles shrugged, "So who are your friends?"

Blossom cringed at the word friends. She wouldn't say they were even acquaintances, more like accomplices. In murder. Of werewolves.

But she smiled anyways, "Oh, Bubbles, this is Boomer and Brick. Guys, this is my sister, Bubbles."

Brick raised an eyebrow, but Boomer's face lit up.

"Blossom, you didn't tell me you had such a gorgeous sister."

Bubbles giggled at that, and Boomer's smile grew. That same, horrible smile that let you think he was all lollipops and gumdrops. How Blossom hated that thing with a burning passion by this point. As the two continued with their flirting, her mind wandered off in thought.

She was probably turned recently. What did that mean? Was it an accident, or was someone in Townsville trying to cause trouble? Why Margaret? And why when Brick and Boomer came to town? Everything was just too strange, so many questions whirled in her mind. It could just be coincidence, but out of all this time, why now? Apparently, Brick was having the same thought because he spoke up.

"Has anything else like this happened while you've lived here?"

"Huh? Oh, um, no."

They sat in silence for a few minutes while Boomer and Bubbles continued to chatter lightly. And then Brick spoke again.

"I think something's come here, something that wants to stir things up."

He paused,

"Something evil."

END SECTION 1 CHAPTER 1

Author's Note:

I'm basically about to tell you all about updates, and I'm only going to do it once, so read up. First, I'm going to say, do not bother me about updating or I will take longer on purpose. Why? I'm busy. This doesn't mean please don't review, it just means please don't push too hard about updates. Second, it takes me about two months to finish a chapter on average (It is very possible to take longer). Thanks to my beta's supreme quickness, I only have to add about two days to that for proofreading (She is human so it does occasionally take longer). However, it does not hit FanFiction anywhere near that time. Each section of the chapter is posted, as finished, on my LiveJournal account (Yes, chapter 2 is already posted up there). The link to this page is on my profile. Chapters will hit FanFiction with a one to two month delay. Why do I do this you ask? I have had some unpleasant times on this site and I have to fix my story a tad so that it fits the rules. LiveJournal is now my main way on communicating with you guys. Thanks.

Romanion-English translations:

Eu nu sunt vrednic de prezența ta, oh strămoșii mari. Iartă-mi greșeala gravă- I am not worthy of your presense, oh great ancestors. Forgive my grave mistake.

Oh, cei mari, eu cu umilință implor, vă rog să-mi permiteți la locul tău de odihnă. Eu depun eforturi pentru a vă aduce, și nobilul meu moștenire mare onoare- Oh great ones, I humbly beg of you, please allow me into your resting place. I shall strive to bring you and my noble legacy great honor

oh, familia mea infailibil, vă rugăm să fiți milostivi. Și așa, eu, deci cu mult sub tine, cere de la tine să-mi permiteți în domeniu. Trăiască linie Iosia- oh my infallible family, please be merciful And so, I so far below you ask of you to allow me into your domain. Long live the Josiah line.

Fratele meu- dear brother

Iartă-mă, stăpânii mei. Te implor milă de voi, și iertare pentru blasfemie mea, astfel încât sufletul meu ar putea fi salvate- Forgive me, my masters. I beg mercy of you, and forgiveness for my blasphemy so that my soul may be saved.

Ce naiba crezi că faci, idiotule?- What do you think you're doing, idiot?

Ce ți se pare? Sunt fiind prietenos- What does it look like? I'm being friendly.

Și cum se că o să ne ajute- And how is that going to help us?

Uită-te la Brick ei, e îngrozită. Vom obține nimic de la ea ca aceasta- Look at her Brick, she's terrified. We'll get nothing out of her like this.

Frate- brother

Blestemul zeilor- Curse the gods


	2. S1C2: I Scream You Scream We All Scream

I don't own Powerpuff Girls.

Author's note and translations are at the bottom.

Thank you to the amazing beta for this story.

* * *

Section 1 Chapter 2:

I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream for Banshees

The deafening shrill slithered into his ears in a familiar tone. Scathing water poured onto his back, wrapping around his stiff body, wiping away the stresses of the week. Thoughts cleared out of his mind as the soft liquid caressed his head, and he breathed a sigh of relief. The tendrils of anxiety lost their grip of his mind, allowing serenity to take hold of him. His muscles loosened, his inner strain weakening. Two weeks in Townsville, and he already felt as if he could rip the entire town out by the very seams. His emotions flared at the thought. The idea of dominance, rushing blood all for the taking, the very essence of life all his.

Brick stepped out of the shower, and reached for his towel. Bringing the soft material to his skin, he relished in the soothing feeling of the water trailing down his body. He grabbed for his jeans and sweatshirt, and slid the fabric over his form. Relishing in the calm once more, he slowly turned the gold doorknob. Stepping out into the hall, he instantly felt a dozen eyes on him. He refused to make eye contact with the paintings but that didn't stop the clawing at his mind. Emotions swirled into the air, attempting to reach into his mind. He pushed all of them away, but could not stop his own irritation from bubbling in his mind like explosive lava. He worked his way to the kitchen where he saw a familiar head of blonde hair.

"Good morning."

Boomer was met with a growl.

"Well, what's stuck up your ass, smiley?"

"Look man, I know you helped me out with the whole werewolf thing, but that doesn't mean we're suddenly best friends."

The blue-eyed brother snickered, "Way to overreact, Brick."

"It's this God-awful town. I swear, one more week in this Hell, and I'm going to fucking lose it."

"I'm sure things will get easier; at least it's easier to feed here." Boomer smirked, and began to walk towards the door "Oh– and we're out of milk."

That was the last straw. He felt pure anger slam against the confines of its cage. It slinked around in his mind, securing him in its iron clad tentacles. His hands clenched, and his eyes rolled over, replaced by a curtain of haunting black. He felt veins force their way down his face, and he wasn't able to keep the consuming rage from escaping his lips.

"Fuck the world!"

Muttering more curses under his breath, Brick sped to the front door. Once he reached it, he began to walk at a normal pace. God, why couldn't he just fucking run to the store? But no, he had to follow the damn ancestors' rules. He stopped his thoughts before they came to a destructive path, and resolved to himself that he would get a blasted car soon. He continued walking at a brisk pace until a mere glimmer of yellow fluttered past his eye. So familiar, so recognizable, so unwelcomed. Oh fuck no. Not again. What deity hated him so shitting much to make his life a pure Hell? He diverted his steps, and began to walk toward the glaring caution tape. Focusing on his hearing, thousands of noises rammed into his ears. Whispered secrets from miles away to the two women gossiping not two feet from him. He zeroed in on the noises coming from closer to the crime scene.

"…absolutely disgusting."

"…What are they going to tell her kids?"

"….horrible way to go."

"…so much blood."

"…Who exactly could do this?"

Brick scoffed, more like what could do this? He scanned the scene, attempting to gather more information. He caught glimpses of red caked across the pale sidewalk; there were a few coils of flesh clawing past the confines of the tape. That was more than enough to tell that someone was dead. People surrounded the area, speaking in hushed tones; police officers swarmed everywhere like dozens of worker bees. One stood out in particular to him; it was that God-damn cop from last time. Why in the seven realms of Hell did the universe love to torture him? How the fuck was he supposed to get inside an–

"I don't think you're going to get much out of Officer Keenan."

The familiar voice resonated in his ears, and he turned to see a familiar set of serene pink eyes. Despair was etched onto her features, and sorrow pulled her lips into a thin frown. Her entire body itself looked drowned in defeated melancholy. She was slouched, and dejected pain rested under the light gleam of her eyes. A long resting emotion furtively slithered its way into Brick's heart. It loosely wrapped him in its soft fingers, and he felt a slight pang resonate through his form. He felt bad for her.

"At least not alone."

He pushed the alarming sensation down, and finally processed Blossom's words.

"Are you saying you'd help me?"

She shrugged, "Why not? I'm already pulled in enough as it is. Besides, it's not like the cops are going to be able to solve this."

Brick nodded in response.

"Let's go then."

Blossom worked her way through the crowd, ignoring the quiet gossip being passed around. It infuriated her that people could be so disrespectful of someone. This person was indeed a person, probably alive not even a day ago. They had hopes, fears, and dreams. They had people who loved them; they had a life. This wasn't just a mangled piece of flesh lying on the ground. To think that people treated it as such was appalling. How could they spread lies about this person with a clear conscience? How could they stand here and pretend they were doing nothing wrong? How dare they do this to Mit–

She cringed mid-thought, his haunting memory slamming into her. His body torn to shreds, lying scattered on the ground. Blood splattered everywhere, covering the benches and trees. His eyes staring straight up, piercing the sky. His limbs flung in every direction, his skin shredded into minuscule pieces. Margaret ripping the life from his body; devouring his flesh little by little. Her becoming a monster and snatching people's souls from them. Her causing ultimate despair and pain; the girls at the diner never knowing the truth…

Luckily that can of worms was shut as she reached the edge of the caution tape. Beyond it, bright pink flesh was spread out over a radius of eight feet. It was splashed and stuck to the ground. It hung over the bushes next to it, and clung to the house a few feet away from the body. Red dripped down into the gutter next to it, causing rats to gravitate towards the meat. They nibbled at appendages, and scampered around the woman. The body was fully intact with a few bruises and scrapes, but the head; the head was splattered across the sidewalk.

Blossom shivered and pushed down the bile mounting in her throat. She turned to see Brick standing next to her, stoicism etched onto his features. She gave him a small nod, and turned back to the crime scene.

"Excuse me, Officer Keenan?"

The man turned and smiled at her.

"What can I do for you, young lady?"

"Well, we actually wanted to know how exactly you can let so many of your citizens die in two weeks."

Both Keenan and Blossom glared at Brick.

"What he means, sir, is that we were wondering what exactly happened here?"

The officer sent one last glare at Brick, and then turned back to Blossom.

"Well, it seems that this woman's head exploded sometime last night. We really know nothing else. Nobody sees who could've done something like this, much less how."

Blossom nodded, "How horrible, do you have any idea who she is?"

"Actually, that's confidential. I'm sorry, hon."

She smiled, "That's okay. Thanks for your help, Officer Keenan."

"Don't mention it. Have a good day."

Blossom grabbed hold of Brick, and practically dragged him out.

"Did you really have to do that?" She asked him, exasperated.

"Asshole needed to be brought down a few notches."

She sighed, "Fine, whatever. I have to get to school. Keep me posted though."

Brick nodded as she left. He turned and began to trek back to Josiah Manor. As he passed, his thoughts were submerged in the case. The way the woman's head was destroyed, there was something distinctly recognizable about it. Exploding heads couldn't be common after all; it was internal damage. Not many creatures were capable of inflicting death this way, at least not ones that he remembered. It couldn't be a werewolf, they unquestionably, always ate their victims. Nor could it be a vampire, they caused external damage.

As he arrived at his destination, he reached out a hand and rested it on the wall. The bricks swirled into themselves, and he was painfully pulled into the building. He collapsed onto the floor and growled. That was really getting fucking old. Quickly realizing something else, he cursed, his annoyance overflowing. Someone up there just had to hate him.

He forgot the God-damn milk.

~Welcome~to~Townsville~

Frustration swelled in Blossom's mind as she picked up her pace. The first bell had rung two minutes ago, and she was late to class already. After she had parted from Brick, she had practically sprinted to the school, but of course the senile old man was working the crosswalk, and he made her wait five minutes to go. And then, the secretary just had to stop and chat with her about the school play for ten minutes. Blossom wasn't even in drama, why did she need to hear about a musical at all? She finally reached her classroom, and threw the door open, panting.

"Mrs. Jones, I'm so sorry I'm late. The guy in front of the school wouldn't let me walk, and then Mrs. Laffety wanted to talk about the musical, and–"

"Are you done with your excuses dear?"

Blossom stopped mid-sentence. That high-pitched voice did not belong to her teacher. She looked up to see a young woman standing at the front of the classroom. She wore a dull yellow sweater, and brown dress pants. She had short black hair, and baby blue eyes. She was smiling softly, yet sternly, and leaning leisurely against a desk. Something about the picture rattled unease in Blossom.

"Oh, um, I'm sorry. Are you a substitute?"

The woman laughed at this. It was light noise, and yet something about it sounded wrong to Blossom. It sounded, well, it almost sounded sinister.

"No, honey. I am the new teacher. Mrs. Jones quit on Friday."

Blossom froze. She didn't know why, but panic enclosed her bones. Something was off, she couldn't tell what, but there was something amiss with this lady.

"My name is Ms. Keane. And who are you dear?"

"Blossom."

"Well, Blossom, I believe you owe me a late pass."

Said girl stood in shock for a minute before words came tumbling out like an avalanche,

"But, Ms. Keane, the security guard was being rude and Mrs. Laffety and–"

"Doesn't change the fact that you're late, does it?"

"But–"

"No excuses, dear. Get to the office."

Blossom's mouth clamped shut. Fury began to pop in her very core, and she gritted her teeth to keep from speaking. Her fists clenched as her mind began to seethe. She began to fall under anger's awaiting grasp, and her eyes bore holes into the teacher's head.

"Yes, ma'am," she managed to croak out before spinning on her heel, and leaving the room.

Her legs were moving furiously as she stormed down the empty hallway. It was eerily silent without all the students moving about. The light shone against the bleak white walls, giving them a ghostly look. Blossom's feet banged against the weak floor as she continued to move forward in a rage. Who does this teacher think she is? How can she act like she was so above us all? Who does that? How can she be so unfair and so unsympathetic? It was safe to say, Blossom did not take a liking to Ms. Keane.

The next few classes went by fairly quick for Blossom. Ceramics was an easy enough class for her and the teacher really only cared if she tried to make something. Calculus was a study hall since Mrs. Catleen had forgotten to prepare a lesson for today, and her philosophy teacher never assigned them work either. The only thing was that the thought of Ms. Keane was still bothering her. Never mind the fact that she didn't like her new teacher, there was something different about the lady. Even when she smiled, it looked malicious and condescending. And she clearly thrived on humiliating her students, judging by her earlier interaction with Blossom at least. The mere thought of this morning sparked rage in Blossom. Ms. Keane was being totally unreasonable, anyone could have–

Her thoughts were cut off by a loud ringing noise. She quickly reached into her pocket, and pulled out her cell phone.

"What?"

Blossom cringed at her curt answer. Just because she was having a bad day, didn't mean she had the right to take it out on other people. She would be extremely offended if someone did that to her.

"And I thought I was being bitchy today."

Ignoring the jab, she recognized the nonchalant tone immediately.

"Brick? How did you get my number?"

"I asked Boomer to get it from your sister."

"Well, what do you want?"

"Again, just peachy keen today aren't we?"

Blossom sighed, he was right. She was being unnecessarily nasty toward him. Even if he had thrown her life completely upside-down, and violently attacked her, and was just a general jerk, he deserved common courtesy.

"I'm sorry. It's just I have this new teacher, and she completely unfairly gave me a tardy slip this morning."

Brick scoffed, "The horror."

"Fine, I didn't expect you to understand anyway. Now, would you please tell me what it is that you need?"

"I need to get into the police station to identify the victim from this morning, but I don't know the town well enough to investigate thoroughly–"

"I'll meet you there at five."

As she hung up, Blossom could have sworn she heard a "moody bitch" from the other line. She ignored it, and continued with her lunch.

The rest of the day went well enough, and she soon found herself walking silently down the roads of Townsville. Kids flooded the streets, playing tag and enjoying themselves. People walked down the paths, shopping bags and snacks in hand. The warm aroma of churros filled the air, originating from Mr. Carriedo's colorful cart. Lively chatter resonated around the sidewalk, and many faces were adorned with excited smiles. Blossom felt her own lips pull back into a content grin. This was why she loved Townsville. Even in the face of continuous tragedy, people still smiled. It warmed her heart just to see them all so content.

The change in the atmosphere was tangible, tense silence took reign over her ears as she turned the corner. The streets were almost empty except for the ghostly aura that veiled them. The sun was almost completely down by now, and darkness began to slink onto the ground. It enshrouded the dim corners and abandoned alleyways. Cold nipped at her skin, leaving it a sickly red. She shuddered, and pulled her jacket about her body as a sort of protection against not just the cold, but the eerie ambiance surrounding her. She saw it then. His bright hair was noticeable from far away, a dazzling splash of vivacious color in a bleak picture. It didn't fit in, unlike the rest of him. His shadowy eyes, scowling face, and menacingly crossed arms blended perfectly with the scene around him. It was as if he was made to be standing there. Brick opened his eyes when Blossom greeted him.

"Hey."

"Let's go."

He walked toward the door, and pulled out a pin.

"Wait, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like? I'm getting us in."

"No, you're breaking us in."

He scoffed, "Well, how else did you expect this to go down? Us barging in there all friendly, requesting for files from our dear friend Officer Keenan?"

"No, but still–"

"Look, we're not going to do anything bad. We need information so this thing can be stopped."

"Well, I guess, when you put it like th–"

"We're in."

Blossom sighed, and followed Brick into the police station. It was even darker than outside, and shadows prowled about the walls. Unnerving noiselessness curled in the air, pricking at their ears. Their footsteps echoed against the whole building, the only other sound in the room their soft breathing. Desks and shelves were crammed all over the place, folders sticking out everywhere. Brick walked to the office at the end of the room, and pulled out the pin again. Blossom didn't even protest this time. What was the point? What could she do if he refused to comply with her wishes? Her strength and speed weren't even in the same league as his; he wasn't human after all.

"Come on."

She followed him into the room, and watched as he took a seat at the desk. He clicked a few keys on the keyboard, and then turned to Blossom. She was quietly observing a trophy on the shelf, its gleam reflecting in her eyes.

"Any idea what the password could be?"

She snapped out of her trance, and stared at him for a minute. After she seemed to process his words, she lightly walked over to the desk and stood next to him. Leaning over, she typed something into the computer.

Incorrect login.

Her brows knit in frustration, and she tried again.

Incorrect login.

Brick spoke up just then. "Police stations usually have alerts that go off if a password is put in wrong three times."

Blossom nodded. She seemed to contemplate a moment before her eyes widened and she snapped her delicate fingers.

"I got it. Try Rainbow the Clown."

Brick raised an eyebrow.

"It's a long story." Blossom supplied.

He turned to the computer and typed it in.

Access Granted.

"Wow, Townsville is even lamer than I thought. Quite an accomplishment."

Blossom nudged him and smiled, "Shut up."

He stared at the computer screen, and then clicked a few icons. Soon enough they reached recent cases.

"I'm assuming it's the one labeled 'Exploded Head'."

Blossom leaned on the arm of his chair, "No way. They did not call it that."

"Looks like they did." He commented wryly and clicked on the file.

Both of them scanned over the text quickly.

Brick spoke, "Victim's name is Viola Grandwitz. Did you know her?"

Blossom nodded, "No. It says here she was a consultant at the bank though."

"Two kids, graduated from Townsville High in 1998, married her high school sweetheart Don Grandwitz, lives in the suburbs. She seems completely normal, so why would something want to kill her?"

"Couldn't it have been a random attack though?"

"I highly doubt it. Random attacks are usually done by beasts that are looking for food. All of her remains were still at the crime scene."

It was silent for a few minutes.

"We have to wait for it to get another person. If we can find a connection, maybe we can figure out more about it."

Blossom nodded, "Let's get out of here. I already feel bad enough breaking into the police station, much less the sheriff's office."

~Welcome~to~Townsville~

Brick softly touched the tough, freezing wall in an attempt to minimize the strength of the force he was about to feel. It was of no avail for he felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him when he was pulled into the structure. Once he was admitted into the manor, he fell, graciously mind you, on his ass. Careful to not even think anything offensive of his ancestors, nor the house, he wandered into the first kitchen. He raised his eyebrows in surprise when he walked into the room to see a large TV set up in the adjoined family room. He hobbled toward the freezer, and pulled out a bag of frozen peas. Working his way toward the room with the new device, he called out to his brother,

"Since when do TVs come with nine hundred year old houses?"

Boomer smiled exuberantly, "Dude, no joke, this is awesome. Look at the game. It's like it's popping out at you."

Brick dropped the peas onto the red leather armchair and lowered himself. He cringed as he reached the area he fell on, and then took a seat on the bag. With a contented sigh, he closed his eyes.

"Ancestors got you, huh?"

"You have no idea."

"If I was human, I would invite you in man."

"Yeah, well you're not. So I still have to take that fucking entrance every God-damn day, and fall on my shittin' ass every motherfucking time."  
Both Brick and Boomer winced at that comment. Ruefully, the red headed brother slowly lowered his burning form to the ground to rest on his knees, and gripped the couch for support.

"Strămoșii mei puternice, eu cer iertare pentru cuvintele mele teribile. Vă rugăm să acceptați scuzele mele umile pentru infracțiunea mea gravă și să aibă milă de acest suflet pierdut."

He stayed there for a few more minutes, before sacrificing his pride.

"Um, Boomer?"

"Yes, frate?"

"Would you mind getting me a blood bag from the garage?"

Boomer smirked, "Sure, vampie."

He got up and headed in the direction of the door. Brick, meanwhile, expended all of his energy trying to stop himself from cursing his not-quite-dead family. God, could this week get any worse? Boomer finally came back with a small bag of crimson liquid. He lowered it just above Brick's head.

"Give it to me." Brick snarled.

"Uh, uh, uh. I think your manners need a little work." Boomer's eyes glinted mischievously.

"Boomer…" The vampire brother growled.

"Brick."

"I'm warning you…"

"Just a few simple words could fix all this."

"For the love of Christ, just give it to me."

"Nope, not until you say it."

"Fine."

A string of unintelligible mumbles followed.

"Hmm, excuse me; I couldn't quite hear you, frate."

"Thanks."

"Thanks…?"

"Oh, Hell no."

"It won't kill you, ya know."

"It will."

"Just say it, and this sweet, juicy, saving snack is all yours."

Brick gritted his teeth, biting back a million curses, "Thanks, frate."

"Oh, it's no problem, Brick," Boomer smirked as he tossed the blood to his brother, "After all, I know how weak you vampires can get if you start

dieting."

But Brick wasn't listening to him anymore. He ripped open the cap on the bag, and brought it to his lips. He instantly felt his muscles begin to fortify and strengthen. The searing pain was being washed away with every drop of the satisfying drink. But, something still felt off. He didn't feel like he could conquer the whole world in one fell swoop. He couldn't feel invincibility coursing through his veins. It was incomplete. It was wrong. It was weak. It wasn't human. He pulled it back from his lips, and cringed. He was able to get up without agony, but it still felt like he wasn't full.  
As he took his seat, Boomer spoke up,

"Not liking the bunny blood?"

Brick scoffed, "Stuff's nasty."

Boomer's eyes darkened, "Probably why the ancestors make you drink it."

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Brick spoke.

"How much it cost you?" He nodded toward the TV.

"A grand, give or take."

Brick scoffed, "Probably half a paycheck for you."

"Oh come on, man. You know you have it easy. I'm human half the time; I don't stand a chance without Mojo."

"You don't call him 'dad'." Brick noted.

"Do you?"

"I don't think any of us do. Not anymore."

They stayed in comfortable silence for a little while, when Brick realized something.

"Hey, since we're on this topic, have you ever run into anything that can cause human heads to explode?"

"Yeah, why?"

"They found a woman in the suburbs whose head was splattered all over the place."

"Well, that's unpleasant."

"I just don't know what could have caused the damage."

"Wait, you seriously don't know?"

"Know what?"

Boomer put down the beer he had picked up, and gestured to Brick, "Come on."

The two brothers wandered through the vast halls of their home. Boomer walked toward the more abandoned part of the house, at least by the living. Lost souls meandered around, seeking people they once knew. Hushed whispers reached out from the walls, clawing toward the two walking downs the halls. Eerie eyes followed their every step, envying their very quality of holding onto some semblance of life.  
Boomer led Brick to the door he recognized as the entrance to the library. He had only been formally allowed into this room once as a child for it was quite a holy place. Some of the strongest ancestors resided here. But Brick used to sneak in all the time, and the spirits were very welcoming and friendly. They taught him much, and read to him as a child. Sorrow tinged his heart as he thought of when he couldn't see them anymore; when he turned fifteen, he no longer could sense the souls in the library. He was too old, his imagination was dying, and he was like the others then. He could only vaguely sense them when they became violently emotional.

Opening the door, they were met with vast rows of books encumbered with age. Dust slithered around their bindings, coiling around the entire room. The sunlight erupted through the glass ceiling, illuminating the entire room. Columns of mighty oak bookshelves reached toward the light. Tranquility swirled in the air, giving the whole room a rather safe aura. In the middle of all this, a single gold pedestal stood, ready to be used after ages in retirement. Boomer approached it, and placed his hands down.  
"Strămoșii lui Iosia femei, Giulia, fiica lui Adrian."

A book came flying from its deep confines in a shelf. Dust splattered into the air as it landed on the pedestal. Boomer opened it to a picture of a woman. She looked middle aged, and a few wrinkles were sculpted into her face. Her expression was one of a hunter, searching for its quarry silently in the menacing night. She had a dangerous smirk painted on her face, and her eyes were lit with mischeviousness. Her lips were stained a deep red, and her eyes were a piercing yellow. Boomer broke the silence,

"Giulia Dragoi, the daughter of Adrian Dragoi. She was our great niece, or something of that sort. She was a vampire like us. Her father was constantly attempting to have her married to a wealthy gentlemen, but Giulia refused to be tied down. One day, her dad announced she had to marry Sir Jonathon of England or face the guillotine. She agreed to the arrangement in front of him, but late a night, in the safety of her room, she invited a demon into herself. The next day, in the darkness of dusk, she murdered everyone in the castle with a shrill wail. Consequently, many young women in our family began to follow in her footsteps, and these demon-vampire hybrids became common. They were eventually known as Banshees, creatues who roamed the night destroying the souls of their enemies. The ticker is that their call causes the victims' heads to explode."

"You're saying that these things originated with our family?"

"Originated, yes. But not exclusive to."

"Fuck."

"This one isn't going to be easy Brick. Banshees maintain human characteristics even when they're killing."

"Well, how do we take care of it?"

"Ţipa rădăcină, scream root. Make a stake of it; Banshees are technically just supercharged vampires after all. It should work."

"And where exactly would I find scream root?"

"As far as I know, only one dealer in the country sells it."

"Well, where? I can get it and be back by tonight."

Boomer shook his head, "Brick, you don't understand. The man's a psychic, he only sells to humans."

Silence snatched at the room for a few minutes.

"Why, for fuck's sake does the world shitting hate me?"

Boomer felt a rare ounce of pity for his brother. The week had really been pounding him to a pathetic pulp.

"There is a good side to this whole Banshee business if it's any consolation."

Red eyes snapped up, "Well?"

"They don't waltz around killing random people. They go after their enemies. So just find a connection between the victims, and you've got your perp. Not to mention, they can only be women."

Suddenly, Brick's eyes lit up. Boomer smiled at the sight, at least something was going right for the guy. …Even though a dozen things were going wrong. He chose to be an optimist this time. His smirk grew at Brick's words.

"Meet me at Outta Time at seven. I have an idea."

~Welcome~to~Townsville~

The bell gave a light ding as she opened the door. Her ears were instantly assaulted by the reverberating sound of chatter bouncing off of the walls. Dim lights cloaked the building, and the sweet smell of greasy food slinked through the air. Dozens of people meandered around the place, smiling and laughing. She caught sight of a young girl sitting at a table in front of a frighteningly pink cake. Matching candles carried frolicking flames on top of the treat. A loud chorus of unpleasant voices soon broke out in what she recognized as the birthday song. A predatory smile spread on the young girl's face as she suddenly pushed her face down into the creamy frosting of her neon cake. Cries of astonishment burst from several mouths, and Blossom found herself grinning. How innocent that girl seemed, like she had nothing to worry about but how pink her cake was going to be or how much she was going to get. Blossom's mind submerged in a memory of one of her own childhood parties. She believed it was her sixth one. She had the same passion for pink as this young girl, and all she wanted was a bow in this color as dazzling as it could possibly be. Of course, she had thrown about six temper tantrums, and forced the Professor to run to about five different cities to find one, but it was all in the name of childhood.

"Blossom."

Her head snapped to the side, while her eyes connected with blood red orbs. She slowly peeled herself away from the scene she was observing, and worked her way to the booth Brick was sitting at. Sliding in across from him, she shivered as the frigid seat collided with her back. She wiggled around a tad, and settled into the seat. Brick was nonchalantly scanning a menu. Frustration welled up inside of her as she remembered their first confrontation.

"What did you need?"

Brick's gaze left the menu and he spoke, "Have you ever heard of banshees?"

Confusion flashed across Blossom's face, "They were women who appeared at people's deathbeds in the 20th century."

"That's the common belief."

"And what are your views on the matter?"

"I did a little research on them in my family library. They're actually women vampires with demons in them."

Blossom motioned for him to continue.

"I think a banshee killed that woman in the suburbs."

Before she could respond, boisterous laughter rang in the air. Their gazes shifted. Boomer and Bubbles had walked in, and seemed to be deeply invested in a conversation. Laughter echoed from their throats, and boisterous smiles adorned their lips. Both Blossom and Brick frowned.

Exasperation flooded over Brick's body. Apparently, nothing wanted to shittin' work out in his life right now. First, he gets stuck in this crapheap of a town forced to ask for help from some ditsy teenage girl, then all of these idiotic shithead monsters decide to follow him, and now his motherfucking brother couldn't keep his motherfucking dick in his motherfucking pants. Did people just live to annoy the Hell out of him?

Unease and apprehension swirled in Blossom's mind. Why was Bubbles talking to him? Out of all the boys in Townsville, she had to socialize with Boomer? Her mind began to black out, and she felt the frigid talons of nausea grab hold of her stomach. Her eyes narrowed without consent to thin pink slits. Her lips stretched themselves even further down at the ends.

"Oh, hey, Blossom."

The said girl forced her mouth back into a strained smile as her sister approached the table with Boomer in tow.

"Hey, Bubbles. Hey, Boomer."

Boomer nodded graciously and sat down next to Brick, "Hello."

Blossom desperately attempted to keep her voice calm, "You two look like you're having fun."

Boomer smiled, "Yeah, Bubbles has been a really wonderful tour guide so far."

Her sister giggled, "Aw, thanks. I'd love to stay, but I have to get to work so I'll see you all later."

Blossom didn't wave to her though; she was too busy wrestling back the glare that wanted to rip Boomer into tiny little pieces. She was barely keeping her temper under control as she turned back to Brick.

"So, you said a banshee's behind the attack?"

"Supposedly."

"Well, how do we stop it?"

Boomer pulled out a picture from his pocket. On it was a blood red flower, working its way forth from a murky black colored stem. Dark leaves crawled out from beside the flower, and the crimson petals curled outward. Lethal thorns spurted from the organism, waiting to strike at unwanted impostors.

The blue eyed brother spoke, "Scream root is an extremely rare flower originating in Romania."

"And it'll kill them?"

"A stake of it will."

"Well, where do we get it?"

"I know a guy in Indiana who sells it."

"What are you waiting for then?"

Brick rejoined them, "He'll only give it to humans."

Exasperation flooded over Blossom's entire body, wrapping her bones in its cruel grasp. Why did this have to happen to her out of all people? What, exactly, had she done to incur all of the wrath of the gods? Dread scraped at the edge of her mind as hopeless resignation etched itself into her chest.

"Oh come on, you have to know someone else who can help you."

Brick shook his head, and Boomer simply smirked.

"No."

Boomer's smirk grew, "Oh come on, Blossom, it can't be that bad."

"It's in Indiana. What am I supposed to tell my dad if I go?"

"We'll figure something out. Please."

"Guys…"

"Just one little trip."

"I really shouldn't…"

"You could help the innocent people of Townsville."

"Can't you just pretend you're human?"

"He's a psychic, he'll know."

"Oh gosh, fine."

"You won't regret it."

"I better not. When are we leaving, Brick?"

Brick, for his part, was the perfect picture of nonchalance.

"Actually, I'm not going."

Unluckily for Blossom, she happened to be drinking a glass of water when this small piece of information was revealed. Her eyes widened to the size of baseballs, and the liquid sprayed out of her mouth.

"What?"

"Boomer's going with you."

"And why exactly aren't you going?"

"Someone has to stay here in case the banshee attacks again. That could lead to crucial information for us."

A light voice rang out, "Looks like it's just going to be us, Blossom."

At this point, she was frantically fighting to keep curses from flying off of her tongue. Scathing irritation sparked at the edge of her mind. Annoyance slithered around her very core, slamming around in her skin. Frustration clawed at her, and pulled at the very ends of her sanity. Why couldn't life just let her be happy for once? She harshly stood.

"Fine. Meet me here tomorrow at six. Don't be late."

Storming out of the diner, she slammed the door deafeningly. Boomer stared as she left, his mouth agape.

"She means 6 PM, right?"

Brick simply shook his head in the negative, tacitly enjoying his brother's despair. God was funny after all.

~Welcome~to~Townsville~

Blossom felt nervous anticipation well up in her stomach. She fidgeted with the side of the white tea cup. She felt the smooth edges of it, running her hands over its small form. The hot substance it housed swished around, lightly pushing at the outside of the container. Panic had secured its ironclad grasp around her throat. She felt as if her breakfast was ready to pounce out of her body any second now. The anxiety flared as she heard a soft pounding hit the stairs. Hastily, she restrained her emotions and smiled at the Professor.

"Good morning."

Her father was jolly as usual, "Good morning, Blossom."

"Here's your tea."

"Thank you, dear."

He graciously took a seat at the table, and pulled out the newspaper. Remorse already pounded in her chest, and she hadn't even committed her heinous deed yet. A nauseating beat was ringing in her ears, and her vision hazed into a blur.

"Hey, um, Professor. I had to ask you something."

Her father carefully folded his newspaper and put it down.

"Yes?"

"Well, I've been doing this project for history, and I have to interview someone in Indiana to get it done."

"Oh, I'll drive you down next weekend, sweetheart."

"Actually, my project advisor said he would drive me down today."

The Professor grimaced "Project advisor?"

Blossom nodded, "Yeah, the teacher couldn't take care of the projects all by herself so she gave us all different mentors to help."

"Just wait until next weekend dear. I'll drive you then."

"But it's due tomorrow, Professor."

He sighed, "I really don't feel comfortable leaving you alone with a man I don't even know, honey."

Blossom figured she couldn't get much further from the truth than she already was.

"A group of other students are going as well."

The Professor stared at her for a few minutes and Blossom felt her heart slowly fall into ruin as shame continued to hammer at it. Agonizing sickness pulled her under, and her brain fell into a cloud of nothingness.

"Well, I guess if you promise to be careful…"

"I will. Don't worry, Professor, I'll call you every hour."

"Thank you dear. I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Bye."

Not looking back, Blossom practically sprinted out the door. She felt as if she was going to be sick. Guilt pricked at the edges of her mind, sending her into a whirlwind of hostile sensations. Sickness ate away at her stomach, and she felt as if she could vomit and second. Her feet were moving quickly down the icy concrete as she passed by several buildings. Townsville had an ethereal silence about it at the moment. Small chirps jumped from the confines of tree branches every now and then, and once in a while the soft rumbling of an engine rang in her ears. It was chilly out, as usual, but for once the scene did not bring Blossom peace. The cold was bitter to her, and the silence sent unwelcomed chills down her spine. She was so absorbed in her surroundings that she would've missed the diner if it hadn't been for the unusually irritated voice that stopped her,

"I thought you said not to be late."

Her eyes snapped up to meet bright blue ones,

"Sorry. I ran into a few issues."

Dread briefly danced across her mind as she noticed his eyes had some of that dark ferocity shining in them. His mouth was etched into a fine line tugging downwards, and his arms were irately crossed over his chest. Her attention was soon diverted to the hefty object behind him. He was leaning against a dazzling white SUV.

"Rental?"

Boomer scoffed, "Yeah."

Blossom smirked, "Not a morning person, are we?"

"Just get in the car."

Blossom slowly paced toward the vehicle's sparkling door. She hesitantly gripped the handle and pulled it open. On the other side, Boomer irritably slammed his door. Blossom slid herself into the seat and closed her own door. A rumbling sound met her ears as the engine came to life. She leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes as the car began to move. Serenity washed over her uneasy nerves, and her mind calmed itself. The sound of soft music met her ears as she began to glide into darkness. Trivial thoughts consumed her mind, and reality quietly slipped from her grasp.

After what seemed like a few mere minutes, Blossom jolted awake. Hastily scanning her surroundings, she found that she was still in the car next to Boomer. Soft jazz curled around her ears, tenderly caressing them. Her breath continued to come out raggedly, and her heart throbbed crudely in her chest. A teasing voice cut through her panicking mind.

"Have a nice nap?"

Blossom was still a tad shocked, "Huh?"

"How was your nap? You've been out for a few hours now."

"Oh, um, fine."

She slid down her chair, attempting to pacify her rattled nerves. She turned her head toward the window and saw vividly green trees pass her vision. They stretched up to the sky, sending a freshening shade over the small road. On the other side of the car, a murky brown peak impinged onto the ground. The car was still moving slowly, assisting in soothing her body.

"So, how's school been going?"

Blossom almost burst out laughing at Boomer's question. That just seemed to be his go to conversation with her, and it was entertaining how, without fail, he would always ask her about something as insignificant as school. Then, she remembered she was in the car with Boomer. And Boomer was not her friend. He very nearly killed her. This train of thought did not halt her from being straightforward with her response.

"Horribly, actually."

His eyes lit up, "Really? Why would that be?"

"Well, there's this new teacher, Ms. Keane, at school. And let's just say I'm not quite fond of her methods."

"You hate her, don't you?"

"I didn't say that. It's just she's completely unfair, and unsympathetic at times."

"Hmmm."

Blossom could not control the ire that overcame her mouth then.

"Alright, the wench is a cruel and terrible person, and I hope she suffers."

She immediately clamped her hands over her mouth, and her eyes spread to a comical size. It appeared both her, and Boomer were surprised by her statement as his gaze snapped to her and stared for a few seconds. Quickly turning back to the road, Boomer returned to his smooth and mischievous demeanor. Awkward silence befell the car for a few minutes before Blossom spoke up.

"So, what's up with you and Bubbles?"

Boomer smiled at this. Not one of his usual devious smirks, but a soft and genuine smile. This made Blossom even more uncomfortable for some reason.

"She's a really sweet girl."

Blossom expected him to stop at that, but his whimsical voice continued on.

"I've only known her for a few days, but still, she's one of the kindest women I've ever met. And, I've been around for a while. Yet, I've never quite seen someone with such an open heart, and such a faith in the goodness of people. She's… like a saint."

Boomer's expression remained far off, and Blossom felt unabashed shame well up in her stomach. He could just be lying, her mind screamed at her. But she knew it wasn't true. There was a look on his face, one she had never seen before. He was lost in his thoughts of Bubbles, lost in his vision of Bubbles. Just looking into his eyes slightly jolted her. It was like he wasn't even on Earth anymore. It made her feel…strangely anxious.

"Look, I'm warning you. I better not hear anything about you messing with her, or I will kill you."

She thoroughly expected to be exhausted by the flippant response that was sure to leave his lips, but instead found herself momentarily baffled by his words.

"Here we are. Carl's Whacky Quacky Magic Emporium."

Blossom stared at him for a few minutes before finally realizing what he was talking about. She slowly raised her hand, and opened the car door. Stepping out of the vehicle, her gaze snapped to the building Boomer was gesturing towards. Dusty and ramshackle bricks covered the surface of the sagging building. Vibrant graffiti covered the sidewalk in front of it, popping into flamboyant bursts of color. A rickety door was continuously creaking on its feeble hinges. A crude brightly colored yellow sign was hanging on top of the building, looking horribly out-of-place.

"This is the place you're counting on to save Townsville?"

"Absolutely."

Boomer continued smiling, "Now, I can't go in because he'll be able to tell I'm not human right off the bat. So, it's up to you."

Blossom mentally sighed, but accepted that fate had just decided to be immeasurably cruel toward her. Accepting the wretched hand dealt to her, she briskly walked toward the crumbling store. Boomer's smile never faltered as he vivaciously waved after her. She viciously tugged open the door, and was instantly met with a particularly pungent odor. Scrunching her nose, her frightening pace halted. Taking one slow step forward, she heard the bell give a light ding as the door shut close. Rundown wood shelves lined the floor, and an equally dilapidated counter stood at the front of the store. Bizarre Tiki dolls stood on stands, their eyes seeming to be glued onto her body. Jars of strange fluids and chunks of mysterious substances rested in their spaces. Unnerving silence had descended on the building, causing an apprehensive feeling wrap around her chest.

"Lizzie Borden took an axe…"

Blossom jerked at the children's voice emanating from the corner of the room. She quickly whirled, and began walking toward the chilling noise.

"And gave her mother forty whacks…"

The noise became slightly louder as she stepped closer to it. Flaring terror seized her body when she finally registered exactly what the doll was saying.

"When she saw what she had done…"

A rustic, wooden doll sat on the corner shelf, its lips a chipped off, deep red. It had lengthy sand colored hair and wore worn out white pearls around its neck. Its blue eyes were fixated on her own, staring right into her core, sending shivers down her spine. Its dress was a pastel colored blue, and she wore small black ballet shoes. Its head slightly tilted as Blossom extended her hand toward it. Its hair, its eyes, its peculiar innocence… It all reminded her of someone. It had such a distinct impression about it. It was so familiar-

"She gave her father forty-one."

"Can I help you?"

Both voices rang out at once. One was a hoarse, deep sound. The other was a scratchy, high- pitched noise. Blossom quickly turned to see a large man standing behind her. He had a cheerful smile on his face, and his eyes were jovially lit up. His clothes had strange stains about them, it looked as if he had spilled some of the liquids from the store on himself. Panic ignited in her mind when she noticed a red blotch on his shirt. Was that… blood?

"Sorry, the Lizzie Borden doll goes off on her own sometimes."

"Oh, um, it's ok. I was actually looking for something in particular."

"Alright."

Blossom carefully slid the paper out of her pocket and showed him the picture Boomer had given her. She noticed a dark veil cover his eyes, and his smile dropped off of his face. His posture became defensive, and his tone was now paranoid.

"You're looking for scream root?"

Blossom slowly nodded, and the man gestured for her to follow him. He led her to a broken down door at the back of the shop, and opened it. She stepped inside, and suddenly felt the air suck out of her lungs. A stinging sensation pounded in her back, and her vision slightly faded. Her mind was reeling as she attempted to suck in breath. The wall was bitterly cold and rough behind her. The man snarled,

"Who are you?"

"My- my name is Blossom."

"Last name?"

"What?"

His voice came out harder this time, "Last name?"

"Utonium."

The man dropped her, and she felt the ground connect austerely with her body. Looking up, she was his hand extended toward her, but did not take it. He noticed her hesitation.

"Sorry about that. Thought you were a vampire."

A light chuckle rang in her mind, she could relate with vampire paranoia. Softly, she took his hand and he lifted her up.

"How could you tell I wasn't?"

He shrugged, "You didn't really have the aura about you, but your last name confirmed it. Your line is not one of the beasts."

He led her to a small table in the center of the room, and gestured for her to sit. She lowered herself into the seat, and he sat across from her. Blossom's eyes wandered the room for a minute. A single light flickered at the top of the room, and the fading white walls were severely chipped. The backs of the chairs were bent, and dents covered the table.

He broke the silence, "I'm Carl."

"How does someone named Carl get into this kind of business?"

He laughed, "Carl's my nickname. My real name is Szilamér. I figured most people wouldn't even know how to say that."

She almost rolled her eyes as she made the connection of where he was from.

"So, you're Romanian?"

He smiled, "How'd you know?"

"Been having a lot of experience with the language lately."

He smiled, and silence reigned for a little until Carl spoke again.

"So, what do you need it for?"

"Huh?"

"The scream root, what did you need it for?"

"Oh, um, I'm having a small banshee problem in my town."

He nodded gravely, "Those things are real bitches. How many has it gotten?"

"Hm?"

"You know, how many has it killed?"

"Oh, um, one."

He gave her a perplexed stare.

"Then, how do you know it's a banshee?"

She quickly covered her mistake, "I did a little research. My friend is really into this stuff. She insisted that something supernatural was behind this."

He nodded. After a few minutes, he rose and walked to another door. Entering through it, he disappeared for a while. Just as Blossom was starting to get concerned, he came back in with a jar in his hands. In it was the very crimson flower she was looking for.

He held it out to her, "One of the last few I have left. Be careful with it. There's a lot of those damn blood-suckers out there dying to get a hold of this."

She nodded, and got up. She walked out into the store, and just as her hand reached the door, the two voices from earlier rang out.

**"Lizzie Borden took an axe…"**

"Oh, and Blossom?"

**"And gave her father forty whacks…"**

"You'd better not be lying to me if you're human…"

**"When she saw what she had done…"**

"Because I have something of yours…"

**"She gave her father forty one…"**

"Something very valuable..."

Confusion swirled around in Blossom's mind as she opened the door. She practically sprinted from the door to Boomer's car. That was extremely bizarre. Now that she was out in the fresh air, she realized there was something very wrong with Carl.

"Woah, woah. Are you okay?"

She halted and took deep breaths when she heard Boomer's voice. She said nothing for a few minutes.

"Here's your stupid scream root. I hope you're-"

A ringing noise interrupted her thought. Boomer reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone.

"Yo."

He was quiet for a second.

"Wait, wait, what's going- Brick? Ugh."

He ended the call and put his phone away. Blossom stared expectantly at him.

"What's going on?"

"Brick wants us to get back to Townsville. Now."

His tone made nausea skulk into Blossom's stomach. What else could possibly go wrong?

~Welcome~to~Townsville~

_Blood caked the sidewalks, sluggishly seeping down the ground. Chunks of goopy flesh stuck to objects in the area, dangling from buildings and trees. A body laid on the ground, its neck cut at the seams, and its head splattered around everywhere._

Brick would never acknowledge it, but a spark of glee lit up in his mind; be it a small one but it was there. Apparently, not everyone up there loathed his very existence. This new attack came at the perfect time. Sending mental thanks to his nana, he continued to scroll down the page he was currently reading. After an hour of researching at Townsville Public Library (yes, it turned out that this shithole of a town did have one), he finally found a lead on the banshee case. Jumping through dozens of obstacles in the archive, he discovered an article from last week about a woman's body also found in the suburbs. It turns out her head had exploded as well. Even further, this Ms. Sullivan was more than your average citizen, people who knew her, adored her. She was a benevolent person, and had even–

"What's the problem, Brick?"

Blossom and Boomer ran up to him, panting. He threw the papers he had printed towards them. Quickly glancing over them, they turned toward him.

Boomer stared at him, "So, why is this lady important?"

Brick smirked, "It turns out that our dear Ms. Sullivan was so venerable that she adopted a teenage girl some fifteen years ago. It also happens that the last victim you saw was this girl's best friend back in high school, and this morning another woman was found dead. She was the girl's teacher."

It was soundless for a few minutes until Blossom broke it.

"You think this adopted girl's our banshee?"

Brick nodded, and Blossom spoke again.

"Well, who is she?"

Brick looked down at the paper, "Last name is Keane; she's a teacher at Townsville High. You know her?"

Blossom felt pure ire wash over her mind, encompassing her in its iron grasp. Her vision distorted slightly, and her brain barely even registered the words he had said, it was so busy with its rage. What exactly had she done to incur the wrath of every higher being in the universe? Someone up there just had to hate her… or they really needed a new source of entertainment.

Boomer, on the other hand, almost died laughing,

"Know her? Blossom hates the bitch."

He continued with his fun as Blossom sent a scathing scowl in his direction and Brick simply raised his usual skeptical eyebrow.

Blossom elaborated, "She's a new teacher. And as Boomer previously brought up, I am not too fond of her."

His eyebrow shot even higher, "So, you basically hate the bitch."

Blossom threw her hands up in exasperation, "Are neither of you capable of being polite?"

"Not particularly."

"I was raised by wolves."

Boomer's already hefty smile grew even more, "Oh, that was so amazing!"

He held up his hand for a high five, but Brick simply stared at him, irritated.

Boomer gave him a dejected look, "Oooor not."

Blossom suddenly gasped, "Oh no, there's a class reunion tomorrow."

"So?"

"Ms. Keane is speaking. Can you imagine how many people she could kill if she pulls something at the mic?"

Brick snapped, "Fuck, you're kidding me, right?"

Blossom sighed, "So, what's the plan?"

Boomer finally stopped laughing, "Well, the only way to stop this thing is to figure out who the next victim is."

"Well, isn't Ms. Keane going after people from her past?"

Boomer stared at her, "Yeah, but why?"

Brick snapped, "Who cares? We know the bitch did it. Let's just stake her and get this the Hell over with."

Boomer shrugged, "Fine by me."

Brick spoke again, "We'll all go to the reunion tomorrow then. You two will go in and mingle with everyone; you'll also kill her when the time comes."

Blossom spoke up, "And you?"

"I'm going to go to the internet café next to the school, and monitor the sound waves. If anything sudden happens, I'll be able to let you know what's happening."

Blossom nodded, "Do you mind if I head home now? My dad's expecting me back from the 'field trip' soon."

Brick simply waved, and Boomer smiled, "See ya, Blossom. I had fun today."

Blossom had pretty much gotten over the whole fearing Boomer thing after about the twenty-second maddening joke he had made on the car ride back, and so she sent him a chilling look and walked out of the library. Immediately, her hands flew to her sides, covering her suddenly aching body. The frigid wind nipped all over her skin, turning it a plump red. Water slithered its way into her eyes as another blast of cold air rammed into them. She hugged her jacket firmly around herself as if it was her source of life. She slowly paced on until she came to her home. Lifting the key up, she nimbly pushed it in the hole and opened the door. Switching on the lights, fluorescent color flooded her vision. A stern, yet gentle voice rung in her ears.

"It's late, Blossom."

"I know, Professor. I'm so sorry. It won't happen again."

The man smiled, "I know Blossom, and I trust you. So, did you have fun?"

Guilt cruelly clawed at Blossom's fragile mind.

"As much fun as doing schoolwork can be. I'm kind of tired though. Would you mind if I went to bed?"

"Of course not, dear. Good night."

Blossom raced up the stairs, and slammed her door shut. Crumpling onto her bed, she thrust her face into the tender pillows. Why did he have to trust her so much? He couldn't just be an atrocious parent who deserved a disrespecting teenager. No, he had to be one of the kindest fathers ever, and have to deal with a dishonest, ungrateful child. Her mind continued to squirm under the tight grip of shame. Her thought eventually faded into blank nothingness as her eyes gradually draped shut.

It seemed to only be fifteen minutes before a piercing noise sprung out from beside her. Blossom shot up, and looked at her clock: 8:30 am. Hurdling out of bed, she quickly packed a backpack and hauled it over her shoulder. Making sure she grabbed everything, the young girl bounded out of her room and down the stairs. Gazing around, she felt a stroke of pleasure that the Professor wasn't there. She just couldn't deal with the blame right now, not with people in danger. Scrawling a messy note on a paper, she grabbed a bagel, and sprinted out the door. She swiftly paced toward the school, the freezing air clutching at her face. The usual serene softness that sounded in Townsville was not present today. Bustling voices curled in the air, and people swarmed around the school. An enthusiastic aura hung around, and smiles adorned everyone's faces. Just before she reached the school, she turned into the Right On Time internet café, and took in the smell of roasting coffee beans. Dim shadows covered the building, and lime decorations rested on the walls. As always, the intensely red head of hair was extremely obvious, and she walked over to the booth. Boomer and Brick were sitting in silence, Brick staring at a computer and Boomer playing around with his coffee. The blonde boy's face lit up when he was her.

"Blossom!"

"Hey, guys."

"You're late."

Blossom snorted, "Yeah, by like three minutes."

Brick rolled his eyes, "Whatever."

Boomer just continued smiling that infuriating smile.

"Looks like we're getting rid of your bitchy teacher today. Feel good?"

Blossom scowled at him, "No. It will never feel good to kill anyone. I'm not a monster like you all."

Boomer smirked, "It feels awesome, doesn't it?"

Blossom breathed an exasperated sigh just as Brick cut it.

"As much as I hate to break up your vagina fueled emotions chat, we have a banshee to kill."

He slowly pulled out a pair of crimson colored stakes, "These are the scream root stakes. In case you are feeling particularly dumbass-y today, you use them to kill the thing."

He then handed them a small ear piece, "We'll use these to keep in touch. If anything goes wrong, call out. I'll be in here. Get it? Got it? Good."

Blossom rolled her eyes, and Boomer mock saluted, "Yes, sir!"

Brick stared at him, irritated, "Just get out there."

Blossom and Boomer sluggishly walked out of the store and were immediately met by the thunderous sound of excited chatter. People packed around the towering school building, laughing and having a good time. Boomer asked the guy at the ticket table for two entry passes.

"Are you an alumnus?"

Boomer pointed at Blossom, "Nope, but she's a current student."

The man smiled at her, "Would you have your ID with you?"

Blossom nodded and showed it to him. He smiled again and handed them two tickets. Warily, the two walked in and stopped at the side of the fence, out of earshot of anyone else.

Blossom whispered, "You go right, I'll go left."

Boomer smiled, "Ok, good luck. Remember to use the earpiece if anything goes wrong."

Blossom nodded, and turned back to the lively hoard of people. She blearily waded through the crowd, staring at the radiantly colored signs sitting upon food stands. She stopped near a homemade lemonade stand, and grabbed a cup. Next, she worked her way towards the corner of the room, and stood there inconspicuously. Her thoughts slowly drifted off to her homework, and exactly just how much she had left. Things had been so hectic this weekend; she hadn't even gotten the chance to look at it. Anxiety suddenly pounded at her mind, causing her thoughts to flee into a swirl of slight panic. Just as her worries began to calm, an excruciating force slammed into her body. A slight ache swirled in her shoulder, and her hand flew up to nurse her hurt body part. Quickly glancing up, she saw Officer Keenan pacing swiftly past her.

"Oh, hi, Officer Keenan!"

Blossom courteously smiled, but was slightly dazed when he didn't apologize, nor acknowledge her presence. He continued to speeding walk past her, not even looking back. She noticed his fists clenched, and his head faced downward at a stressed angle. His shoulders were pulled back into a menacing position. He looked almost as if– as if he could kil–

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to welcome back the class of 1998 to Townsville High. It is great honor for us to be able to celebrate so many years of excellence with you all. Now, as you know, the school started off as a small single and rickety building–"

Blossom's mind focused on the principal's speech, and she felt her earlier worries fade.

Brick, meanwhile, was quite a bit busier than the two in the celebration. He was reviewing Ms. Keane's file when he stumbled upon something weird. Her name didn't match up with the one on file. Ms. Keane's first name was Jennifer, but the file said that Ms. Sullivan had adopted a girl named Alex Keane. After researching for a few more minutes, Brick's eyes widened. His hand flew to his earpiece in a matter of seconds.

Blossom nearly jumped in shock when Brick's pressing voice rang in her ear.

"Have either of you guys seen Officer Keenan there?"

Her mind half registered what Brick was asked, but she was a tad more concerned with what the principal was saying,

"And now, I'd like to welcome up our guest speaker, Ms. Keane. Now, Ms. Keane was a student here fifteen years ago-"

She responded to Brick distractedly, "Um, yeah, I bumped into him earlier. Why?"

"If Ms. Keane wouldn't mind coming up on stage now to speak–"

Brick continued to command the girl, "Listen to me, Blossom. You have to find him now."

"Ms. Keane, if you could please come up–" Soft murmurs erupted in the crowd.

She spoke into the earpiece again, "What's going on, Brick?"

"Um, if you'll excuse us for a minute. It seems that Ms. Keane had disappeared-"

"Blossom, we were wrong. Your teacher isn't our killer. It's her sis-broth-whatever, Officer Keenan."

A shrill scream rang out from behind the stage, and Blossom instinctively sprinted toward the source. Everything around her blurred as she reached the dark confines of the area. People crowded around the door to the backstage room, and panicked voices rang all around in the air. Blossom urgently scanned the area, and noticed a window. She darted towards it, and threw it open, climbing through. She slammed it shut behind her, and rapidly pulled out her stake. Her eyes skimmed her surroundings, as eerie silence crept in the air. Her breathing came out steady, a semi-soothing sound in the disturbing room.

Suddenly, a harsh pain exploded in her back, and her spine felt as if it had been slashed apart. A searing, crimson pain enclosed her mind, and her breathing became ragged. Gradually compelling her eyes open, she saw Officer Keenan standing in front of her. His eyes were wide like those of a madman, and he was doggedly panting. Her vision drifted toward his hand, and hideous dread scraped at her conscious. A deep red liquid covered his large hands which were holding a massive axe.

"Blossom, run."

She turned to see Ms. Keane feebly lying on the floor, blood oozing from her stomach. A soft groan escaped her lips, and her eyelids were gravely drooping.

A sardonic chuckle came from her assailant, "It's a little late for that, sister dear."

Blossom hesitantly found her voice, "W-why are you doing this?"

His expression turned livid, and sick terror gripped Blossom.

"They wouldn't let me. Th-they told me I was wrong, that I was sick. They told me I was made to be a girl. But I wasn't– I-I wasn't."

His eyes took on a vague expression, and he stared at the wall behind her for a few minutes before his gaze refocused.

"And now, I'm going to show them. I'll show them all, I can be whatever I want to be."

Blossom gasped when his teeth grew into vast, spine-chilling fangs. His eyes became encapsulated in a dark black, and lengthy veins reached down his skin. Alarm welled up in her chest, and she hastily clawed for her stake. A deafening shrill slammed into her ears, and she was vaguely aware of Ms. Keane making a pain-filled scream. Her hand finally found what it was looking for, and she pushed her hand forward until it connected with a stiff surface. The thunderous noise halted, and a substantial weight fell onto the stake. Blossom dropped Officer Keenan's body, and rapidly slid out from under it. With lightning speed, she ran to Ms. Keane's fallen body, and hoisted her body onto her lap.

"Ms. Keane!"

Her eyes barely opened, and she groaned, "Blossom… Am I going to be okay?"

She nodded her head vigorously, "Yeah-yeah. Help is right outside the door."

She gradually set Ms. Keane's head on the floor, and ran to open the door. As soon as she did dozens of people swarmed into the room, all shouting at each other. Her head began to swirl, and a cold liquid bitterly flooded her vision. She couldn't control the sniffles that sprang forth from her nose, and her body began to convulse. She mentally cringed at all the clamor, and barely noticed that Boomer had come running in. He gently grabbed her body, and pulled her outside.

"Blossom, are you okay?"

She snapped out of her thoughts, "Huh? Um, yeah."

Brick had walked up to them, and seemed to silently observe her.

Her voice came out a lot feebler than she had hoped, "C-can we just get out of here?"

Boomer nodded, and gently guided her out of the vicinity. She found herself monumentally comforted by his tender friendliness. She sent one last gaze over her shoulder, and nausea overwhelmed her once again. Officer Keenan's body had cracked into a dozen tiny pieces, blood dripped insidiously down to the frigid ground. His eyes were once again staring with that vague expression once again, only this time lifeless. And she was the reason for it. She had murdered someone she had known. Officer Keenan, he was a citizen of the town she was trying so desperately to protect. Tears once again flooded her eyes, and she turned her gaze to the ground, leaning into Boomer's soft grip.

~Welcome~to~Townsville~

A light ding rang at the door as Blossom sluggishly paced into the Outta Time Diner. The usual smell of greasy fried food assaulted her nostrils, and for the first time in her life, it repelled her. The dynamic chatter that hung in the air no longer eased her nerves, but set them aflame. The dim lighting only reminded her of the malevolent darkness that was insidiously infringing on her life. She spotted the crowd she was looking for, and made a point to ignore everyone else, not bothering to wave. She slid into the booth across from Boomer and Brick, and crossly interrupted their one-sided conversation.

"Keane's agreed to keep quiet. As far as Townsville's concerned, Alex Keenan is just your average psychotic serial killer."

Brick nodded, "Good."

Boomer shook his head, "I have to admit, while entertaining, that story was incredibly depressing. I almost lost my appetite."

He picked up one of Brick's fries, earning him a death glare, but, of course, Boomer just kept smiling.

"Almost."

Blossom sighed, "I never did quite get what happened."

Brick punched Boomer in the shoulder for taking another fry, causing his brother to whine.

Brick turned to her, "Well, I managed to get ahold of Keenan's medical files. He was seeing a shrink for most of his high school career. Turns out he was born a woman, but always wanted to be a man. All the people he was trying to kill were people who wanted to 'help' him continue on with his innate identity, including his twin sister, your teacher."

Blossom barely noticed Boomer rise, and walk to the counter where Bubbles was working, a ridiculous smile plastered on his face. She turned back to Brick, and stared at him for a minute.

"Boomer's right, my life is incredibly pathetic."

Her conversation partner raised an eyebrow, "I believe the idiot in question actually commented on how Officer Keenan's situation was rather tragic."

"True, but we're the ones who had to deal with it. So that makes us even more tragic."

Brick sighed, and stood.

"As much as I love to deal with teenage girls' self-pity, I'm in the mood for a late- night snack."

Blossom shivered at his words, and apparently Brick noticed.

He scoffed, "Chill. I'm more of an animal blood type of guy."

He turned and glared at the back of Boomer's head a moment, "You know, I think I'm in the mood for some bunny."

With that, he sulkily walked out the door. Blossom looked around the crowded diner at all the merry people, and internally groaned. Of course, she, of all people, would be left alone on a Friday night. She was snapped out of her self- pity parade when Bubbles' high pitched voice harassed her ears.

"Blossom! What are you doing, sitting here all by yourself?!"

Blossom looked pointedly at Boomer, "Well, Brick was in the mood for something a little more wild."

Boomer smirked and Bubbles continued to talk, oblivious, "Now, that just won't do! Boomer and I will hang out with you."

Boomer's smile faded, and Blossom felt an unhealthy dose of pleasure swell in her stomach. It was her turn to smirk this time.

"Oh, Bubbles, if you guys wouldn't mind, that would be wonderful."

"Of course we wouldn't mind! Right, Boomer?"

Boomer snapped out of his crankiness, "No, of course not."

He very forcibly smiled, and slid into the booth. A glower snuck on his face when Bubbles slid in beside Blossom. Both Boomer and Bubbles soon absorbed themselves into hyperactive chatter. Blossom couldn't help but smile a little now:

Maybes she could let her self-sorrow go tonight. Just for tonight.

END SECTION 1 CHAPTER 2

Author's Note: Firstly, I actually had extra time this weekend so I managed to get this up. Second, it was brought to my attention by a friend that I was coming off extremely cold in the first chapter's note. I'd like you all to know that I don't mean to come off as rude to you guys, I just don't want to get reviews that literally just say 'update' and 'more'. Don't get me wrong, I love hearing from you: I would love to get some constructive criticism from you all. It would just be awesome if you left an actually intelligible review instead of one that is a single word. Thanks, hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Romanian-English translations:

Strămoșii mei puternice, eu cer iertare pentru cuvintele mele teribile. Vă rugăm să acceptați scuzele mele umile pentru infracțiunea mea gravă și să aibă milă de acest suflet pierdut- My powerful forefathers, I beg your forgiveness for my terrible words. Please accept my humblest apologies for my grave offense and have mercy on this lost soul.

Frate- brother

Strămoșii lui Iosia femei, Giulia, fiica lui Adrian- Ancestry of Josiah women, Giulia, daughter of Adrian

Ţipa rădăcină- scream root


	3. S1C3: The Predator Becomes the Prey

I don't own Powerpuff Girls.

Many thanks to the beta for this story.

* * *

Serene silence sheltered the manor in its soft grasp. Small animals quietly scattered in the surrounding land as the trees softly whispered to them. The moon lit up the ground, and reflected off of a small puddle on the grass. Inside of the magnificent structure, two handsome boys sat, wordlessly staring forward. To the average onlooker, it looked as if two pleasant brothers were watching TV, as the best of friends. Looking closer though, one would notice the apprehensive atmosphere in the air.

Brick heatedly glowered at the flamboyant pictures flashing on the screen. He would never truly be able to wholly express his fervent abhorrence of this damn world. Humans were such horridly stupid creatures. Just the thought of their utter idiocy made untainted rage slam against his carefully constructed mental walls. How foolish they were, living in complete ignorance of the realities of the world around them. They acted as if they were so high on the chain, when in reality, all he needed was five minutes to completely demolish their entire society.

"You really don't like this show, do you?"

He snapped his head toward Boomer, "It's like a bunch of horse shit is striking my brain."

Boomer wholeheartedly laughed, much to Brick's chagrin, "Oh come on Brick, The Secret Life of the American Teenager should be fairly educational to you, huh? Don't you want to know how the kids of this generation act?"

Brick snorted, "They act like the kids of every generation, using their sex drives."

Boomer opened his mouth for a clever response, but a piercing shrill erupted in the area before he could. The two brothers immediately snapped their heads in the direction it came from, sitting mutely for a few minutes. Brick rose from his seat, and hastened out of the building. The wind rushed past his mind, peacefully running through his hair, cooling his thoughts. He came to a small clearing in the bushes, and paused. He focused on his inhuman ears, only hearing the soft hum of the nighttime wind. His mind slowly began to process that the forest was almost silent when the familiarly sweet aroma met his nose. He took a deep breath in, but found that there was something different about the scent. It smelled like blood, but something rancorous tainted it. He swiftly dashed to the origin of the odor, and finally found it.

A young woman's pale body lay on the grass, her eyes wide open and pointed directly at him. Her mouth was hung open, and her limbs lifelessly clung to the ground. He stared in astonishment for a moment– that was it. There were no guts, no blood covering the area. She wasn't disfigured or chewed out of at all. She just looked like a normal murdered girl. He moved closer to her, and cautiously leaned down to examine the body. He picked up her arms, but saw nothing there. He then shifted his attention to her neck, and his gaze hardened. Two small black holes pierced her skin, but nothing was coming out. He was snapped out of his considerations when a panting voice interrupted the strained silence.

"Did you find anything?"

He turned to his brother and nodded, "Check this out: vampire bite, but no blood."

Boomer walked toward the body and examined its neck, "The bite's black. You ever seen anything like this before?"

"No, I was hoping you had."

Boomer stood up, "Are we still on Josiah grounds?"

Brick's face paled, "Yeah."

"Did you invite–"

"No."

They stood in tense silence for a few minutes before Boomer turned to him.

"Let's get back inside."

Brick nodded, still in a shaken state. The night sky was incredibly dark, slightly illuminated by gaudy stars. It was still particularly silent, and even the wind seemed completely still. If he admitted it to himself, he would even say that an insignificant tendril of fear was twisting its way into his mind. This was impossible. No creature that was not a part of their family could come onto the Josiah estate without permission and only one vampire still wandering had that. There was no way it could be her, she hated–

Boomer seemed to be on the same thought, "I don't think it's Buttercup; this isn't really her MO. She's more dramatic, remember?"

Brick slightly smirked, "She was quite the bitchy diva, wasn't she?"

Boomer smiled, "Yeah."

They had reached the frigid, stone wall, and both put their hands against it. In a matter of minutes, they were crudely thrown onto the other side into the manor. Boomer groaned, and got up, but Brick laid there for a while. He relished in the slight calm of the scene, ignoring the encroaching spirits in his mind. Forgetting all of the drama for a few seconds, he breathed in deep. His serene moment was interrupted when he vaguely registered Boomer's voice sometime later.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sorry it's so late, but this is really important. Okay, see you. Bye."

Brick opened one eye, "Who was that?"

"Blossom. She'll be over in 10."

He raised his eyebrow, "You invited her here?"

Brick could practically feel his brother smirking, "I'm going to need better company than you if we're going to spend all night looking into this."

At that point, Brick couldn't care less about anything. He had a killer pain in his ass from hitting the ground (as always). He was stuck in this Goddamn town, with his annoying-as-Hell ancestors. His life sucked and he was a motherfucking immortal. He was aggravated beyond words right now.

"Is he okay?"

Brick's eyes snapped open.

Boomer smirked, "Dracula rises."

Brick glared his brother, and nodded his greeting at Blossom. Blossom, on her part, sat down on the couch, and spoke in a pensive voice.

"Is this where you tried to kill me?"

Boomer nodded.

"Huh. That's kind of creepy."

Brick rolled his eyes, "Can we get back on track here?"

Boomer smiled, "Of course. Let's just get Blossom caught up here."

Blossom nodded, "You guys better have a good reason for calling me here at 2 in the morning. The Professor was about ready to kill me when I told him I had another 'project'."

Brick interrupted, "It was. We found a dead girl on the grounds. She was killed by a vampire."

"So? Aren't you guys used to these kinds of things?"

Boomer decided to take over, "Okay, first off, there was, of course, something off. Now I know you've never seen a vampire bite before, but this chick's wasn't leaking blood and it was black instead of red. That's not normal."

Blossom smiled sheepishly, "Oh."

Boomer continued, "Secondly, the rest of the weirdness requires a history lesson. Josiah Manor is protected by the ghosts of all the dead people in our family dating back to the 1100s. That's around 900 years' worth of spirits."

"Wow. Are you guys really that old?"

"Nah, we were all born in 1238, but we are the oldest creatures still alive. Brick and my other brother were turned into vampires on their 21st birthdays. I was given the family gift of lycanthropy on my 23rd birthday."

Blossom stared at him in confusion, "Wait– family gift?"

Boomer laughed enthusiastically, "I know you humans think it would be a curse now, but back in the day the Josiah family was very well known for its supernatural abilities. Butch and Brick were turned as soon as they were considered of age, and I inherited the family's talent."

"How was it decided which ones of you would be a werewolf?"

Brick snorted, "Boomer was daddy's little boy. Only one of us could get the gift, and Mojo loved Boom-boy."

"Your dad's name is Mojo?"

Boomer shook his head, "No, he changed it when he left Romania. His real name is Mohamia. He's a werewolf too."

"Wait, so are werewolves immortal?"

Boomer nodded, "Just like vamps, our aging freezes."

"Whoa, this is a lot to absorb," realization covered Blossom's face, "Did you say you have another brother?"

Brick visibly tensed, "Can we please just get back on track?"

Boomer smirked, "Sure. Point is all of those spirits will not allow anything that's not human onto the manor grounds if they aren't a part of the Josiah family."

Puzzlement flooded Blossom's countenance, "Is there anyone you guys have invited in?"

Boomer started to respond, "Well, there's this one girl that my other brother turned, but all the rest are dead."

"Then shouldn't we start researching this girl?"

Boomer shook his head, "Nah, she wouldn't spend her time being stealthy. It's probably not her."

The three sat in meditative silence for a few minutes before Blossom got up. The couch made a rustling noise as she rose, and the boys' gazes snapped toward her.

"Well, I gotta go. I left a paranoid father and warm bed at home. Keep me posted."

When she opened the door, a bitter breeze assaulted the room. The suppressed radiance of the moon flashed in the place, bewitching Brick's crimson eyes. He snapped out of his feeble trance when he heard Boomer yawn.

"I don't know about you, frate, but I'm calling it a night. Rămâne în condiții de siguranță în noapte."

Brick vaguely nodded, "Ai prea."

Vexation insidiously clawed its way into Brick's mind. This whole fucking mess was bringing up memories he'd rather forget. Memories he fought tooth and nail to forget. His family was made up of atrocious people who did nothing short of ruining his life. He didn't want to talk about the family 'gift'. He didn't want to talk about his father. He didn't want to talk about Butch. He didn't even want to see Boomer. He just wanted everything to fall off of this fucking planet. He wanted to obliterate it all with his bare hands. To see everything fall right at his feet, and to taste the sugary taste of their wretched life forc–

A shattering noise snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned to see the diamond vase had fallen off of the mahogany side table. Realizing exactly what happened, he rapidly knelt down on the opulent, velvet carpet.

"Strămoșii mei, iertați-mă. Nu știam ce fac."

He gently rose from the ground, and breathed in. Seems like it was time to go grab a quick snack.

~Welcome~to~Townsville~

Brick's eyes apprehensively snapped open and he diligently scanned the area around him. His hands gently stroked the coarse sheet beneath him and, in vain, he attempted to satiate his calm mind. His breath came out as ragged pants as his unclothed chest faintly thrust air in and out of his body. His skin was glistening with sweat due to the sweltering heat, causing the defined edges of his muscles to stand out in the darkness. His mind was reeling, but it gradually began to remember what had awoken him. He rose from bed, and slightly shivered as his feet connected with the glacial floor. He sluggishly paced toward the door, and threw it open. Prudently moving forward, he gazed around the manor. Familiar ornately decorated wood walls stood tall and exalted beside him. Pure gold festoons hung from the ceiling, desperately reaching for the floor. Dozens of family portraits adorned the polished walls, causing him to feel as if he were being narrowly scrutinized.

Brick came to a stop in front of a small mahogany coffee table, and edgily looked downward. Infinitesimal scraps of crystal lay scattered on the floor beneath where a stunning glass vase once rested. That would explain the shattering noise he heard. He wondered if Boomer also caught the noise, but then remembered that his brother's room was a floor above his own. He vaguely picked up on a soft pounding noise emanating from the room in front of him. He carefully stepped forward and gradually pushed open the door. He didn't even finish this action when his mind completely blanked. A toxic pain flowered in his neck, and he felt his energy completely exit his body. His eyes fell closed just as his form slammed bitterly to the ground. Night dutifully passed and the sun rose, but Brick still did not rise from this state.

While Brick still lay on the ground, Blossom softly paced through the town. She closed her eyes, and breathed in the fresh air blithely. Birds elatedly chirped all around her and a tender breeze danced across her face. The trees and bushes were vibrant green with flamboyant flowers flowing from their branches. She relished in the wonderful distraction that the weather gave her. Instantly regretting her agonizing train of thought, her mind fell into the nasty image of last week's event. It excruciatingly came back to her: all the blood, his deranged eyes, her own hand draining the life from his-

She gratefully sighed when a sonorous ringing noise interrupted her pensive state. Reaching into her pocket, she rapidly pulled out her cell phone and answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"Boomer. What's up?"

"I'm just returning your call."

Realization suddenly hit Blossom.

"Oh yeah, have you heard from Brick today?"

"No, why?"

"Well, I needed help with my history homework and you were hanging out with Bubbles, so I thought I would ask Brick."

A familiar boisterous laugh came from the other side.

"So now you're asking us for help on homework?"

"Why not? You guys were actually there. I figure you own me after all the mental trauma you've put me through."

"Fair enough."

"So, anyways, he didn't answer. I called him back almost six times, and still nothing."

"Look, I wouldn't worry Blossom. Brick isn't exactly the most social butterfly out there, in case you haven't noticed."

"You're not even worried about him? What if something happened?"

"He's a vampire, he's fine. Besides, the guy would kill me if I even thought about setting one foot into his room."

Blossom sighed, "Look, that's fine. Whatever. Just- I'm right by your house, would you mind if I stepped in and checked on him?"

"Oooh, somebody's made a new friend."

"Boomer…"

"That's fine. You're human so you'll be able to take the front door."

"You know, most people would just have the problem of the door being locked?"

"We're not people. I'll see you later. Call me back once you see Brick. I want to say I told you so."

Blossom rolled her eyes, but could not stop the slight smile that spread across her lips. She was not friends with Boomer or Brick. She just… had to make sure that they would still be able to keep Townsville safe, perfectly logical. Hanging up the phone, she walked toward the edge of the street. An exquisitely crafted structure came into her vision, and she began to walk toward it. The intricate crafting on the building never failed to impress her, and the delicate stone embellishments sparkled against her eyes. She stopped when she faced a colossal marble door, and stared at the elaborately designed lion's head that rest on it. Grasping the curvaceous door knock that was attached to the beast's head, she nimbly tapped it against the door. Her attempt to be gentle was in vain as a thundering noise reverberated from the door. She listened to the echo for a minute before trying again. Yet again, her call remained unanswered.

Blossom began to leave when an excruciating force slammed into her mind. It felt as if her entire body was in flames, and her eyes scrunched in stinging pain. Quickly attempting to find the source from which her discomfort was coming from, she soon found that her wound was not physical. Deafening shrieks were resonating in her mind, and the pain continued to penetrate her head. Her weight fell against the door, and she felt the corners of her vision fade to black. And then she heard it:

"Blossom…"

The hushed voice cut through her thoughts, parting all the agony from her mind. Her focus rested on the word that had just burst in her head. Her body suddenly had a fervent need to move forward. Her hand gradually turned the burnished door knob to the house, and she stepped inside. She continued forward, as if being compelled somewhere. Her mind was no longer functioning, and it felt as if she had lost control of her conscious thought. She came to as halt in front of two bulky, wooden doors. She stared at them for a few minutes when the voice invaded her mind again.

"Blossom…"

Hesitantly, Blossom's hand rose to the crystal door knob, and turned it. Quietly stepping into the room, consciousness crashed back into her mind once again. Rubbing her head, Blossom became aware of the ample darkness that surrounded her. She reached her hand for the wall, and fumbled to find a light switch. Once she did, she saw Brick laying on the floor of the room. Moving forward, she nudged him, but his body did not move.

Her eyes narrowed, "Brick?"

She cautiously kneeled down, and poked him once again.

"Brick? Are you okay?"

She hesitantly flipped him over and a gasp of sick dismay escaped her lips. Shards of crystal covered his face, and his mouth was lifelessly open. Panic swelled in Blossom's chest, and her throat constricted. It was as if her body forgot how to breathe. She smacked Brick's face a few times, and fear slithered its way into her chest when he still did not rise. Her eyes flew to his neck, where two black holes rested. Finally, her brain seemed to restart and she immediately grabbed her cell phone. Hastily dialing in a number, she impatiently waited for an answer.

"Well, I'm assuming this is your 'I told you so' call."

"Boomer, something's wrong. Brick– he's– there's so much glass–I–"

"Woah, Blossom, slow down. What happened?"

"I- I don't know. I just heard a voice, and I came in and he was there- and I don't know what to do-"

"Blossom. What's wrong?"

"Vampire."

Blossom did not move from her spot as pure dread poured over her body. She had no idea what to do, and even if she did, she wouldn't be able to. Her mind was completely stunned and her eyes would not move from Brick's neck. Her hands unintentionally clenched Brick's firm chest, while terror continued to whirl around her chest. She vaguely heard a thump coming from the room next door, but her mind was still inconsolable. She stayed set in the muddled position she was in.

"Blossom! What happened?"

"I– I don't know. I just– I heard some voices telling me to come in, and Brick was on the floor."

Boomer briskly approached them, and gingerly moved her hands aside. Her eyes looked into his, and he sent her a reassuring smile back. He then picked up Brick's body and rested it on his lean shoulders. Gently pacing to the couch, he rested his brother on the silky velvet. He silently walked to the sink, and filled a glass with water. Walking back to the couch, he set the glass on a glossy side table and sat on the intricate armchair. He gestured for Blossom to sit in the other, and then turned to face her.

"It's a good thing you came in, or who knows when we would've found out what happened to him."

Blossom wasn't really listening to what he was saying; blistering agony continued to claw at her mind as her eyes still remained on Brick's neck. Those vile black holes pierced his perfectly pale skin, seemingly leading to oblivion. How could Brick get hurt? He was a vampire. If he was vulnerable, then what would that mean for everyone else? What about all the weaker beings in Townsville? They would never fare against the insidious evils slithering their way into her home.

"Boomer, what are those things on his neck?"

"That's the same vampire bite we found on that girl the other night."

The two sat in contemplative hush for a few minutes.

"How does this make any sense at all?"

"I have no idea."

Silence encompassed the room once again. Blossom stared at a portrait up on the regal golden walls. It was of a young woman; her skin was a ghastly pale and her obsidian hair was dutifully up in a bun. Her crimson dress contrasted against the pure black background of the painting. Her eyes were a deep red, and seemed to stare right at her. Her countenance was austere, and stately, seeming to pass judgment onto those who looked at her. A perturbed groan cut through her ponderings.

"Ugh, what the fuck is going on?"

His hands instantaneously flew to his neck, and he incredulously stared at the marks there.

"I repeat: what the fuck?"

The usual rascally grin broke out on Boomer's face, "Well, the ancestors seem to love you very much, frate."

Brick growled at him, and he impishly grinned.

"They called Blossom in to the manor to save you. That's really all I know."

"Isn't that what happened to the chick from the other day?"

"Yep."

Brick groaned, exasperated, and fell back on the couch.

"These things better heal or there will be blood."

~Welcome~to~Townsville~

Ragged panting stained the cool air that darted through the forest. Eerie silence twirled in his ears as a resilient convulsion crept down his spine. The trees bristled delicately as a swift wind overcame them. He felt lost, as if something was missing in the confines of his mind. Frenzied panic was grating at his chest, and it was becoming utterly impossible to breathe. He was running toward nothing, and only disturbing blackness shaded his surroundings.

Brick's body sprang forth from the silky couch, and ragged breaths fled from his mouth. His eyes prudently scanned his surroundings as he took in the still blaring television and his brother's dormant body on the other couch. The red haired boy suddenly felt a frantic, fraught need to go outside. His chest began to tingle with the desire to explore the world outside of the manor. Restrained about this feeling, Brick stood and lightly shook his brother. When he received no response from the slumbering boy, he rapidly pulled him off of the comfortable couch and onto the tile. That managed to wake Boomer, and he groggily stood.

"What's goin' on?"

Brick scoffed at his brother's drunken-like state, "Something weird's going on dumbass. Come with me outside."

Boomer yawned, "Okay."

Both of them made their way to the execrable brick wall at the back of the manor. Brick placed his hand on the icy surface and, in a matter of seconds, found his face making contact with the filthy grass outside of Josiah manor. A strenuous groan next to him informed him that Boomer had also made it over, and, clearly, did not having the best landing as well. Brick furiously stood, and cursed every god known to man before turning to his brother.

"Come on, let's go."

He began to warily lead the way through the gloomy forest. Crude crunching noise reverberated through the land as their feet made contact with the ground. The entire property seemed to be apprehensively silent as not even the occasional swoosh of a tree could be heard. The uneasy atmosphere was maliciously working at the boys' every nerve as they continued wading through the dense shrubbery.

Boomer broke the peculiar silence, "So, what exactly are we looking for?"

"I don't know. My dream was just of me walking through the forest."

Boomer stopped in his tracks, "You woke me up because of a fucking dream?"

Brick scoffed, which only made Boomer more indignant.

"Do you even know how much I love my sleeping time? Ask me how much."

Boomer stepped closer to Brick's face while the red-eyed brother simply scoffed again.

"I'm not gonna–"

"Ask me, Brick. Just ask me how much I love my sleep."

"I am not going to fucking ask you how much you–"

"Alright, alright, I'll tell you. I love my sleep so fucking much that I was to thrown it onto my bed and make it scream my name all night."

"Really, man? I could have gone my entire life without–"

Brick stopped mid-sentence when he heard a discreet crunch come from somewhere around them. He snapped his head around, and he focused on streaming all noise to his ears. He soon found that was exceedingly problematic, as his goddamned brother would not shut up about his fucking sleep cycle.

"Boomer, would you kindly shove your hand down your throat until you choke?"

"Ooh, vi-"

Time seemed to stop for a few minutes as everything fell to complete chaos in that second. Brick was thrown into a tree, and was currently gasping for air against a pale hand on his throat. Boomer simply stood there, watching him writhe and staring at the new man who had entered the scene. He was completely pale, and black holes tunneled through his face where his eyes should be. Lengthy fangs sprung from his teeth, and his lips were pulled back into a malevolent smirk. Messy black hair adorned his head. His young features were pulled back into the utter picture of mischief.

The man's voice was taunting, "I was wondering when you would come out to play."

Boomer suddenly snapped back into reality, and ran toward the vampire holding his brother. The creature simply smirked and smashed his fist into Boomer's face. The blonde haired boy wailed in pain as his back callously hit the ground. Neither brother noticed his phone make a subtle noise when he fell. Brick took advantage of the distraction and kicked his assailant enough to save himself. There was no time for respite however, as he was once again rammed into the tree. The man lowered his fangs to Brick's neck, and pierced through his perfectly pale skin. Boomer lay on the floor, nursing his injured leg, helpless. Blazing pain erupted in his shin, and he closed his eyes in utter agony. His breathing was serrated, and he bitterly fought to hold his eyes open. Brick, meanwhile, could feel every fouled drop of life in his body leaving him with his blood. Darkness began to encompass his vision, and his chest no longer wished to fight the resilient claws of suffocation.

An urgent voice cut through the tension, "Boomer, I think you accidently butt-dialed me–oh my God, guys!"

None of them understood what happened next, but Brick was released and dropped to the ground. He felt the breath return to his center, and opened his eyes once again. Everything was blurry and it felt as if all colors of the world blended together. Shock was still pulsing through his limbs, and his mind still attempted to process what had just occurred. Blossom had knelt down to help Boomer with his leg. The vampire had fallen to the ground, shielding his face. His tortured hisses rang through the forest as he continued to skid away from the others.

"No, please, get away."

Blossom stared at him, "What is going on?"

Boomer was still panting, "I have no idea."

Brick had finally recollected himself and paced over to where his fallen attacker was. Shoving his hand at the man's neck, he coarsely hoisted him up.

Venom tainted his tone, "Why don't you enlighten us? You know, since you felt the need to eat me."

"Please. Get her away. I'm begging."

"Who, Blossom?"

"The human, please. I-I can't do this."

"Why don't you give us some answers, and then we'll take care of that."

"Please."

"Oh, Blossom, why don't you take a step closer?"

"No, stop. I'll tell you. Just, please."

"I already told you: answers first, then Blossom goes away."

"Alright, alright. My name is Clémont. I am a chasseur."

Brick stared at him, "And a chasseur is?"

Boomer chimed in, "It's French for 'hunter'."

Blossom curiously looked up from his leg, "You know French?"

"Not really, I picked some up working a job there. It was actually kind of funny you know. There was this woman–"

Brick's cross voice stopped him, "Guys, focus," he turned back to Clémont, "So you're a vampire hunter?"

"Yes, but I was built with one weakness: humans. Too much exposure to them will kill beings like me. So if you wouldn't mind..."

Brick nodded, "Blossom, can you go wait in the manor?"

"Um, sure."

Once she was gone, Brick dropped the man. An austere thud rang around the land, and a ghostly wind rustled the trees. A ticklish shiver danced along Brick's spine as rigid silence encompassed the air. Three pairs of blazing eyes were locked in what seemed to be a countenance cage match.

"Let's be clear. One shout from us, and we'll find out exactly what humans do to you assholes."

"Of course."

A hush once again found its way into the atmosphere. Smothering eyes stared at others, frantically probing for answers.

Boomer awkwardly cleared his throat, "So, that girl we found earlier, was that you?"

"Yes. I left her there to lure you out."

"And, was she….?"

"A vampire? Considering we are unable to be near humans, I would assume so."

Brick decided to voice his thoughts, "But why are you here?"

The chasseur looked up at him and chuckled, "Mind helping me up?"

Brick extended a hand and assisted him in rising. Prudence was carefully etched on his face, and he grimaced as the chasseur stood.

Clémont's countenance turned solemn, "Look man, I have nothing against you. I'm sorry about all of this, but the person who sent me–he's really serious, and really powerful. You need to be careful."

"Do you have any idea who he is?"

The man shrugged, "Not really. All I know is that he's Romani-"

He didn't have the chance to finish his thought when his skin blew up. It began to tear in several locations, and a white powder burst from inside of him. Intestines and insides flew everywhere while bits of flesh covered the ground. An eyeball rolled in front of Brick, its veins flowing behind it. Blood sprayed all over the place, and finger nails pierced tree trunks. White powder covered it all.

Brick kneeled down cautiously and gingerly rubbed a sample of the strange substance, "What is this stuff?"

Boomer stared agape at him, "Sorry, frate, I'm still wondering what the Hell just went down."

Panicked trepidation slithered in Brick's stomach, tugging at his chest. His breath forced its way out raggedly as his eyes remained locked on the carnage. The brothers continued staring perplexedly at each other until Blossom came tearing back into the scene, panting heavily.

"What happened?"

"I don't know, but I do know that Brick got a lesson in empathy this week."

The said boy rolled his eyes, irritated, "Yeah, you're right. Next time I'll think twice before drinking a squirrel."

Several cries of outrage followed his statement, and Brick rolled his eyes. God, if he had known he was working with two pain-in-the-ass PETA supporters, he wouldn't have signed up.

~Welcome~to~Townsville~

Dim lights faintly dangled from the ceiling of the Outta Time Diner. Rustic 80's music swirled in the air, twirling its way into people's ears. Dynamic chatter rang out everywhere. A make-shift dance floor had been placed in the middle of the room, and people were vivaciously dancing on it. Joy was infectious, and vibrant adorned everyone's faces. Brick glowered at the atmosphere, and slid down in the seat. Glancing to the side, he almost gagged as Bubbles and Boomer flirtatiously conversed by the counter. A headache was ruthlessly pounding at the edge of his head. He was just not in the mood for this- this fucking fiesta. Thoughts of the events of today tediously waded in his head. Apprehension was blooming in his chest at the thought of Clémont's pallid flesh strewn on the flawless green plants. The vampire hunter was even stronger than him. Who had the power to destroy him so spontaneously? And just when the scoundrel was going to squeak about his employer?

"Would you calm down before you burst a blood vessel?"

Brick crudely snorted, "Right now, I'd rather that happen than being stuck in this shithole."

Blossom rolled her eyes, "They're having fun, Brick. You should try it sometime."

"I did. It was called the Peterloo Massacre."

Blossom cringed in disgust, "That was you? I thought it was just a bunch of soldiers trying to quiet some protestors."

"It's not that hard to rewrite history, pinkie. A compulsion here, another one there, and bam! Mass murder becomes a revolutionary stand against corruption."

Blossom spared him a death glare, "Don't call me that. Ever."

"Sure thing, sweet cheeks."

He smirked as she slammed her head down on the counter, his spirits momentarily lifted. Soon, though, the tormenting trepidation slipped its way back into his thoughts. His body slightly tensed, revealing his inner turmoil. Clémont's last words constantly sounded in his mind, only kindling his dread more. The person behind the attack was Romanian, and he wanted Brick dead. He could grant other creatures access into Josiah Manor, and only family could do that. The pieces began to connect in Brick's head, and he frantically fought to refute his suspicions. It couldn't be who he thought. Screw logic, there was just no way that he was right. He was just being paranoid. After all, why wait all these-

"Brick, seriously, are you okay?"

Brick eyes snapped up to meet Blossom's grave ones. The torrent of sounds in the diner all blurred, and sordid bile insidiously fought its way up his throat. He was sure that if he was a weaker being, he would have been trembling. He really wasn't a daddy's boy, after all.

He eased his blazing nerves, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little hungry. I'll see you later."

With that, Brick rose, not bothering to wait for Blossom's response. Brutally propelling people out of his way, he gradually pressed his way to the door. Shoving it open, he ardently paced forward. Brick took in the revitalizing burst of air that rammed into his face, and felt the restlessness in his chest relax. Pushing his ponderings out of his head, he sprinted forward into the shadowy night.

END SECTION 1 CHAPTER 3

Author's Note:

I changed the setting on my LiveJournal to allow guests to review. If you want quicker updates, feel free to check that out (the link is on my profile). Quick shout out to everyone who reviewed- thanks guys. No offense was meant to PETA in this chapter by the way.

Romanian-English Translations:

Frate- brother

Rămâne în condiții de siguranță în noapte- Stay safe in the night

Ai prea- You too

Strămoșii mei, iertați-mă. Nu știam ce fac.- My ancestors, forgive me. I did not know what I was doing


	4. S1C4: Just a Kid?

I don't own Powerpuff Girls.

Thank you to the beta for this story! Sorry for bothering you so much!

* * *

Section 1 Chapter 4:  
Just a Kid?

Anxious anticipation welled up in her stomach, and raw panic insidiously slithered around her mind. Several voices were mingling in the air, but Blossom registered none of what they declared. Her mind was lost is unnerved wanderings of her hapless fate. Dark dread was curling in her stomach, and it felt as if a dozen dense bricks were weighing on her shoulders.

Ms. Keane's sugary voice brought her attention back, "Alright everybody, don't forget to study. This meeting is adjourned."

Blossom ran out of there as if sirens were chasing after her. Math and Science Field Day was a big deal for her, and all the 'nerds' of Townsville High. Therefore, making her captain of the team may not have been the best decision on their part. She frantically wanted to tell them that they had made a towering, irrevocable mistake. She was utterly petrified just thinking about all the things that could go wrong _because of her_. Reaching the door to her next class, she brutally thrust it open.

The rest of the day went by in a chaotic haze. The only thoughts that obstinately assailed her mind were that of the completion that was to come. It was like a silent aggressor, perturbing her mind ruthlessly. As soon as the piercing shrill of the school bell sounded, Blossom dashed out of the school. She began walking to the Outta Time Diner, mentally preparing herself for a long night of studying. The icy breeze danced against her skin, and her eyes scanned the stunning scene around her. Crisp auburn leaves hung from trees, swaying against the wind. A striking harmony encompassed the fresh air. A few minutes later she arrived at the diner, and leisurely entered the building. One of the new girls working at the diner greeted her, and led her to a table. Blossom crushed the pang in her heart at the thought of Marg's job being given away. As she waited for a waitress to take her order, her phone went off. She could not help the smile that adorned her face when she read the caller id.

"Hi, Professor."

_"Hi, Blossom. Are you going to be home any time soon?"_

"Actually, no. I was thinking about studying tonight at the diner."

_"Do you have a test tomorrow?"_

Blossom's face contorted in perplexity, "No, Math and Science Field Day is on Saturday. Remember?"

A sickly feeling slithered its way into Blossom's heart when she heard bewildered silence on the other end.

_"Oh, Blossom. I'm so sorry. I completely forgot, and I scheduled a meeting that day in LA."_

Blossom was utterly stunned, "Oh."

_"Honey, I'm so sorry."_

"Don't worry about it, Professor. Bubbles is coming out. I'll be fine."

_"Are you sure, dear?"_

"Yeah. I got to get back to studying. I'll see you tomorrow."

_"Alright, honey. Good luck."_

Blossom hastily hung up before choked sobs shoved their way up her throat. She repressed the ache in her heart, and valiantly fought to destroy the harsh liquid pricking her eyes. An agonizing throbbing pounded in her heart, and disbelief still tainted the edges of her mind. Looking around to see if anyone saw her semi-breakdown, she noticed Boomer standing near the archaic bar. Her eyes caught his effervescent blue ones, and he mischievously smiled at her. Seeing the wounded look on her face, the smirk rapidly fell from his countenance. Something strikingly similar to concern clouded onto his face. He prudently began to pace toward her.

Once he reached her, his distress grew, "Hey, Blossom. What's wrong?"

She reigned in her somber emotions, "Nothing."

"Bull."

Blossom attempted to form her face into an impassive structure, "Excuse me?"

Boomer sighed and sat across from her in the booth, "Look, Blossom, I've been around for a couple hundred years, I can tell when someone's upset."

She sighed, "Well, I'm going to be participating in Math and Science Field Day that's being held at the high school this weekend," She hesitated, "Do you think you could come?"

He smiled vividly, "Sure, Blossom. I would love to support you."

She hastily interrupted him, "That's not why I want you there. It's just– I don't want anything supernatural to happen while I'm busy– yep, that's it. So don't let it get to your ego."

He stared at her amusedly. "Of course."

"Oh, and ask Brick if he wouldn't mind coming too."

"What, I'm not strong enough for you?"

Blossom rolled her eyes, "Just do it."

He mock saluted, "Yes, ma'am."

He seemed to sense that her nerves had not been completely satiated as he sat there for a few more minutes, simply staring off into the distance. Blossom keenly watched him as he sat in serene nothingness. He suddenly turned to her, and his trademark smirk returned.

He rose from his seat, "I think I'm going to head home. I'll see you later."

She called out to him, "Don't forget to tell Brick."

He turned back and smiled, "Of course."

With that, Boomer was gone from the diner. Blossom sighed, sorrow still weighing down her heart. Opening her algebra textbook, she set her mind into focus. She would absorb as much information as she could tonight, and she _would not_ think about the excruciating blow she had just taken. Time began to fade by: seconds into minutes, minutes into hours until lassitude finally induced her eyes to close. Her brain had fallen into a state of barrenness, and her fatigued body began to feebly slouch on the ramshackle table. She had nearly fully surrendered to sleep when a familiarly sardonic voice pulled her from oblivion.

"So, I heard you were cramming for your little geek day."

Blossom's eyes instantly opened into a glare, "Firstly, it's called Math and Science Field Day, jerk. Secondly, I am not cramming, I'm reviewing."

Brick snickered, "Whatever it is, Boomer convinced me to go."

"Gee, thank you for gracing us with your lovely presence, Brick."

He scoffed, but sat down in the booth, "You're studying all wrong."

Blossom was visibly taken aback, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Brick yanked the textbook from her hands, "Your mind retains information the best when you understand something. I bet you're just memorizing facts."

"_I am not._"

"Really? Equation for combinations?"

Blossom instantly blurted out the information.

"There are 13 boys in a class, and 12 girls. They must form groups of 5 for a class project. How many combinations are possible?"

Brick's smug smirk never once faltered. Blossom sat in silence, frantically scrambling to solve the problem. Irritation flared in her mind when she realized that she had absolutely no idea how to tackle this one. Though she found herself fairly vexed with the situation, she wasn't particularly irate. Brick _had_ a point for once (even though he was being a complete jerk as per usual), and this competition meant far too much for her to let pride get in the way.

Blossom attempted to keep her voice sturdy, "You're right."

Pure astonishment splattered across Brick's face, and his eyes swelled tenfold. His entire body was jammed in place, and his nose shriveled up. Genuine laughter bubbled its way up Blossom's throat at his reaction, and she found herself not wanting to hold it back.

Brick snapped back to reality when he heard the melodious noise escape Blossom's lips. He found himself utterly spellbound by the sweet sound. His eyes refused to shift from her jovial countenance, and his head began to tilt slightly as he fell even further under her bewitching humor. When she didn't stop, Brick found himself severely panicked by what happened next: he _smiled_.

Amusement laced his voice, "Are you _laughing_ at me?"

She made no effort to hide her amusement, "Are you _smiling_ because of me?"

He hastily wiped the smile off his face, but was exceedingly unsuccessful at clearing the contentment from his demeanor. Blossom eventually settled down, and looked him in the eye, an enthralling smile still embellishing her face.

"Alright, Mr. Smart-butt–"

He interrupted her, "You mean ass."

She snapped at him, "Don't be vulgar."

He raised his eyebrows but she steadily continued, "Why don't you help me with my studying? You know, if you think you're so great."

"Fine, I will, Ms. Pain-in-the-ass."

She glowered at him, "Just help me already."

He slid the book over to his side of the table, and scanned over it. He then turned back to Blossom, and began explaining the concept to her. A substantial amount of time passed like this, and both of them found themselves beginning to give in to the unkind clutch of fatigue. Blossom's eyelids were sagging, and her entire body seemed to wilt as the hours ticked by. Brick felt frustration begin to bulge as Blossom's attentiveness fell victim to exhaustion. Blossom had nearly succumbed to the scheming tentacles of drowsiness when an earsplitting shriek slammed her back into awareness. Brick's head snapped up as well, and the two just stared at each other for a few minutes.

A waitresses' panicked voice snapped them out of their stupor, "It came from the back."

Brick was instantaneously out of his seat, and swiftly paced to the door where the young server stood. Blossom indolently rose from her seat, and followed the two of them outside. Brick shrewdly led the group through the shadowy area. Blossom trembled when the arctic wind darted across skin. Her eyes focused on the flickering, obsolete light that dangled against the wall. The atmosphere was eerily still, and that sent an irrepressible shudder dancing down her spine. Blossom's body jolted slightly backwards when the girl in front of her let a deafening scream. Her eyes immediately snapped to where Brick stood, frozen in place. He stared at the mutilated body resting on the taciturn, dismal ground. It was of a boy seeming to be around her age. His mouth dangled open limply, and his poignant sapphire eyes stared straight ahead. His body was sprawled out on the floor, and his back was slumped against the side of a dilapidated dumpster. Blossom's eyes contorted in confusion when she noticed that emerald welts tainted the boy's pale skin. The hefty marks were spread around his skin in an appalling manner, and, if one looked closer, crimson red veins flowed along the bumps.

Blossom immediately snatched the quivering waitress into her arms, forcing her to look away. The young girl continued to jerk in her grasp, and Blossom frantically attempted to soothe her. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Brick leaning next to the body. His eyes keenly observed the bizarre welts staining the boy's skin as he rolled the kid over. His focus remained on the feeble corpse for a few more minutes before he pulled out his phone. Dialing in a number, he waited for a response for some time. Blossom could vaguely hear a woman's voice on the other end.

"Hi. I'd like to report a murder at the Outta Time Diner."

Not waiting for a response, he hung up the phone. He turned toward Blossom, and gestured to the road. She nodded, and continued to hold the horrified girl for a few more minutes before tenderly speaking to her.

"I have to go. Do you think you'll be okay?"

The girl's voice came out shaky, "Yeah, I'll be fine. Thank you."

Blossom smiled, "No problem. The police should be here in a few minutes."

She gestured to Brick, and he followed her to the derelict road. The night seemed encumbered by shadows, and now Blossom felt a tingle of dread run across her spine. The thought of another merciless monster running rampant in Townsville only added to the flame of her trepidation. Her mind was lurching just thinking of the kind of repugnant creature that did this.

Brick's voice stopped her mind from its descent into pandemonium, "We should get back to the manor, and discuss who did this."

Blossom nodded, "Yeah. Let's go."

The frigid air nipped at Blossom's chafed skin, and it took on a sickly red shade. The moon was glistening proudly against the murky curtain of the night. Shadows seemed to scuttle across the road, maliciously searching for virtuous victims. She hugged her jacket closer to herself in an attempt for ease. The walk seemed to last for hours as Blossom's nerves continued to burn under the blaze of distress. Brick was unnervingly silent the entire time which only added to her utter dread. Eventually, they reached the noble form of Brick's home. The grandiose mansion appeared to come to life at night. It seemed as if the stone eyes of the gargoyles actually sparkled in enchantment. The extensive vines that, in the morning, only seemed to plague the structure looked as if they were slithering against the rock walls. The moon mysteriously shimmered off of the ornate crystal windows.

Brick's monotonous voice interrupted her observations, "I have to enter from the back, but you can go ahead."

Blossom nodded, and reached for the lavish front door. A slight rasp rang from the entrance as she forced it open. Guardedly striding in, she took a moment to relish in the utter magnificence of the building. It seemed to come to life as much inside as it did outside. One could feel specters of the past emanating from the walls. Dim lights encompassed the opulent halls, and her eyes were cemented to the stunning, carved walls. Opening a familiar door, she encountered an exceptionally recognizable room. She took a seat on the delicate couch, and waited for Brick to arrive from the back. As if on cue, a roaring thud rang throughout the room, and Blossom's eyes snapped to the source. A perceptibly vexed Brick lay on the brilliant wooden floor of the room. The blaze in his eyes seemed to roar a tad more as fury washed over his face.

Blossom raised an eyebrow, "You okay?"

She received a temperamental grumble in return. She could not stop the mirthful smirk that crawled across her face at Brick's utter desolation. Her amusement only swelled when a jovial blonde boy toppled on the already tormented red-head. A laugh even managed to glide past he lips as a raucous scuffle broke out between the two young men.

"Get the Hell off of me, Boomer."

"Fine, fine. Jeez, Brick, just take a chill pill, would you?"

Blossom quirked an eyebrow at him, "Did you just tell him to take a chill pill?"

Boomer smiled as he stood up, "Yeah, so what?"

She snorted, "So, are you in third grade?"

Boomer looked genuinely affronted, "Adults can say that too."

Brick's aggravated voice cut through the amiable conversation, "Could we _please_ get back on topic?"

Boomer nodded, "Of course. So what was so urgent that I couldn't finish my bacon burger?"

Blossom's mood faded to black once again, "We found the body of a murdered boy by the diner."

He stared incredulously, "You're kidding."

Brick shook his head, "Nope. He was all covered in these nasty welts. It looked like he came out of a swamp movie or something."

The three sat in utter silence, pondering the recent events. Tension twisted itself into the air, and Blossom felt a repulsive restlessness slither its way up her spine. The once striking spectral atmosphere of the manor now only seemed to add to the flame of fear sweltering in her chest. He fingers twitchily nipped at each other in a vain attempt to calm her blazing nerves.

Boomer broke the edgy muteness, "Well, from what you're describing, this seems like the handiwork of a witch."

Brick sighed, "Great, we'll check it out tomorrow."

Blossom groaned as her fate was sealed with those simple words. Absolute frustration grasped at her mind, and she now clenched her fists irately. The pink of her eyes darkened an infinitesimal amount, and her lips pulled down into a displeased grimace.

She decided to articulate her emotions, "You're kidding me."

Brick's eyebrow simply rose inquiringly, and Boomer stared at her in silence for a moment.

The blonde brother ventured to question her, "Is something wrong, Blossom?"

She stood up heatedly, "Yes, something is wrong. Math and Science Field Day is this weekend. And so help me, if the team loses because I was too busy searching for some atrocious witch, I will lose it."

Even Brick was staring at her, mouth agape. Unreserved astonishment had been flung across the brothers' faces. Their eyes were bulging out of their sockets, and their tongues dangled from out of their mouths. Blossom would have laughed at the rather animated scene if aggravation had not rooted itself in the pit of her stomach.

Brick's face suddenly sprouted in a smirk, "So the prude is feisty. I knew it."

Blossom gave him a death glare, but he did not falter one bit. The bothersome sneer did not depart from his countenance, and the fuming scowl she wore only intensified. A stark tension had formed a tangible wall between the two of them. Their feet were locked to the ground, and their fists were clenched in on themselves, on the brink of drawing blood. Boomer sensed the perilous wrath rolling off of his brother in waves, and hastily made to save the day.

"That's fine, Blossom. You just focus on studying; we'll take care of this."

It was Blossom's turn to be stunned. It showed on her face, as she cringed backwards at Boomer's hurried but sympathetic words. Insecurity clearly bloomed on her face, and she could not prevent her eyebrow from skyrocketing. Her face was frozen in an astounded position, and she patiently waited for Boomer's explanation.

Discomfort did not escape her tone, "Really?"

The blonde boy genuinely smiled, "Yeah. This means a lot to you, and we want you to do well. So we'll handle the witch on our own. Right, Brick?"

Said man snapped back to reality when Boomer's elbow starkly rammed into his stomach. Giving his brother a cross snarl, he sullenly grumbled his response.

"Sure, what he said."

Blossom still remained uncertain, "Are you sure you guys will be alright?"

Boomer smiled reassuringly, "Blossom, we're badasses. We'll be fine."

She nodded, "Well, if you're sure then I guess I'll head home so I can finish reviewing math."

With that, she dashed out of the room. Boomer and Brick both dwelt in silence for a few minutes, awkwardness gliding its way into the air. Brick just continued to stoically lean against the counter, heatedly glowering at the floor while Boomer moved to lazily lounge on the opulently jeweled couch. Both brothers just stared off into space, clearly exhausted from their suddenly difficult day. Even the spirits seems to quell under the melancholy grasp of the boys' fatigue.

Boomer finally spoke up, "Well, I'm going to head to bed. We can check out the case tomorrow."

Brick waved, "_Rămâneîn condiții de siguranță."_

He paid no attention for a response as an agitated feeling continually clawed at his insides. It swirled in his stomach, constantly dragging him into its inexorable clench. He found himself completely confounded as to what it was, and that only added to the edginess. He was actually _worried_ for Blossom, or rather her happiness. This distressed him to no end, and he utterly refused to admit that he had any ties to that _infuriating_ girl. She was constantly slashing away at his fortitude, and challenging him. She was pathetic, human, and everything that he scorned on God's green earth. He had no reason to fret for her stupid little competition because he did not fret for her, at all. Brick clasped his fists when this logical conclusion did not seem to repress the violent feelings swaying around in his core. Eventually, this feeling managed to tap into his animalistic hunger, and he found himself heading outside to satiate it.

~Welcome~to~Townsville~

Boomer excruciatingly coerced his hefty eyelids open and starkly drove his body up from the tender mattress. His back instantaneously coveted the delicate bed in his side, and his head pined for the fuzzy pillow to support his throbbing head. Staunch lassitude grasped at form, and he frantically craved to hold the silky blanket in his clutch once again. Lethargy still holding him its derelict prisoner, he meticulously pulled his entirely rigid legs from the bed, and a gaudy yawn left his lips. A profound soreness flowered in his spine as he compelled his legs to proceed forward. His mind was in an utter heap, and no intelligible responses seemed to repose there. His ears vaguely picked up the sound of his feet dragging maladroitly across the polished oak floors of the manor. He somehow induced his arms to reach for the lavish handle, and thrust his hands against the door with all the vigor he could rally at this time. He was greeted with an undesirable spurt of light gushing in from the kitchen window. His hand instantly glided to his face, and he cowered away from the decently infuriating sight.

A familiarly derisive voice broke his mindset, "Morning sunshine."

Boomer's voice was uncharacteristically grouchy, "Fuck you."

Brick simply raised a bemused eyebrow, and slid his brother a scorching cup of coffee which was delightedly accepted. As Boomer ravenously chugged down the replenishing substance, Brick decided to bring up the plans for the day.

"So, are we still going to investigate today?"

Boomer, visibly in an enhanced condition, nodded, "Yeah. I was thinking that since I haven't seen the body, I could check it out. Would it still be at the diner?"

"I believe so. The Townsville police seem to be particular lazy asses. They probably haven't moved it yet."

"Alright, I'll go there, and since you're so good at dealing with the police," Mockery tainted Boomer's tone, "Why don't you pay the station a visit?"

Brick snorted, "Whatever."

Boomer headed for the door, "Ne vedem mai târziu, frate."

Brick idly waved, "Da."

Boomer paced out of the room, with a revitalized hop in his step. A lurid smile now peeled across his face, and his eyes ignited mischievously. Opening a towering, wooden door, he entered a quaintly sized bedroom. Exalted walls stood around the room, and a shimmering wooden floor reposed under him. An immense bed mounted against the wall, sustained by an intricately engraved headboard. Lavish sheets relaxed on the bed, and a varied assortment of plush pillows lay there as well. A dark chocolate paint enclosed the walls, creating a menacing ambiance. In all honesty, Boomer hated his room with a ferocious ardor. It was just too taciturn and disconsolate for him, but this was the closest room to Brick's and Boomer did not really wish to leave his brother wholly alone after the chasseur incident.

Rapidly snatching some clothes from his vast closet, Boomer changed into them. As he headed out the door, he checked his appearance in the mirror and smirked haughtily. His luscious blonde hair rested exquisitely on his head, and his handsome blue eyes were gorgeous pools. The curved lines of his chest muscles stood out, and his biceps were colossal. He was one _fine_ piece of meat. After several minutes of ogling himself in the mirror, he exited the room. The blonde boy winded his way around numerous extensive hallways, all lined with opulent velvet. An enthusiastic jig still slithered into is step, and his devious smile did not wane once. Finally reaching the immense door at the front of the manor, he chirpily pulled it open.

A subtle calm had eddied its way into the air of Townsville, as usual, and Boomer's smile only propagated. Jovial chirps were heard from the trees, and the occasional effervescent jogger passed by. The sky was an immaculate baby blue, and puffy white clouds passed by it every so often. The air was salubrious, and Boomer relished in it as he took it in. Eventually, the derelict figure of the Outta Time Diner became visible. Its old-fashioned appearance stood out brightly against the natural greenery around it. When he entered the building, he was greeted by the usual odor of grease and fried food. There was barely anyone in the diner this early and the dim lighting only served to add to the shifty ambiance. There were no servers standing around so he began making his way to the back door, prepared to examine the body. A familiarly animated voice stopped him is his tracks.

"Hey Boomer!"

Delight burst in his heart, "Bubbles, hi."

The young blonde smiled at him enthusiastically, "What are you doing here?"

Boomer feverishly racked his mind for an excuse, "I actually had to use the bathroom."

"Oh cool," the young woman nervously chuckled, "though I don't know how that's cool so…."

A moment of awkward silence enclosed the air.

Bubbles paused uncertainly, "So-um, Blossom's going to be in this math thing for the school on Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to come?"

"I already am; Blossom asked me to come."

Bubbles' countenance crooked into confusion, "Really?"

Boomer smiled, "Yeah."

An awkward expression still arrested the girl's face, "Wow. You guys are pretty close, aren't you?"

"Well, I wouldn't say-"

A gaudy voice interrupted them, "Bubbles, get back to work."

The young blonde adopted an apologetic expression, and gave him a halfhearted wave.

"Bye Boomer."

He smiled courteously at her, and dutifully waved. Once she was out of sight though, the grin glided right off his face, and his eyes kindled with anxiety. Thoughts of why Bubbles would be so taciturn abruptly assailed his mind, and an unpleasant tickling scraped at his stomach. He decided to blame it on the fact that, simply, she was a girl. When his eyes connected with the bathroom sign, he was suddenly reminded of his mission. Deftly pacing toward the restroom, Boomer warily took refuge behind the wall next to it. He kept his watchful eye on the hall in front of him. A few young waitresses passed by, headed to the kitchen. A few discreet clinks were heard as dishes were moved around, and the occasional youthful giggle was heard from the staff. After he was certain that no one was watching, he warily walked toward the back door. Rejoicing at his successful deception, he strolled toward the flagrant yellow caution tape.

His eyes immediately snapped to the devastated body slumping faintly against the wall next to it. Moving closer, he noticed the revolting violet welts Brick had spoken about. Upon scrutinizing them, he noticed that some sort of lime tinted ooze was seeping from them. Gradually scooping some up onto his fingers, he vigilantly sniffed some of it. Instantaneously, his hand recoiled, and he began to ferociously cough. The appalling odor lingered in his nose, and he felt his eyes begin to slightly water. The boisterously raucous sound of two approaching police officers snapped him out of his observations, and he swiftly returned to the diner. The once unobtrusive hush that had graced the building was no longer extant. Waitresses bustled around, and dynamic chatter fluttered in the air. The smell of pancakes wafted toward Boomer's nose, and he was exceedingly tempted to stay for a while. The thought of Brick having a bitchiness attack propelled that notion from his mind, and he reluctantly coerced his legs toward the manor.

~Welcome~to~Townsville~

Brick silently snarled as he stealthily stared inside of the sheriff's office. The goddamned officer was on his fucking seventh doughnut. Words couldn't describe how infuriated the red eyed vampire was at the moment. All he wanted to do was rip the stupid man's head off, and gouge his eyeballs out. Just as he thought that he would execute that plan, the police officer stood and exited the building. Something similar to relief overcame him, and he shrewdly stepped into the structure. Cluttered papers and coffee mugs lay all over desks, and bulletin boards full of notes dangled on the walls. Deliberately working his way towards the sheriff's office, he adroitly picked the lock. Scoffing when the door opened, Brick noiselessly walked over to the computer. He typed in the password Blossom had given him, and rolled his eyes when it worked: morons.

Navigating through the files, he noticed one entitled: teenager found dead by dumpster. His eyes rapidly scanned over the file; the boy's name was Michael Jennings. He was a star athlete set up to attend UCLA on scholarship. His murder was completely unexpected, and as far as those close to him knew, the young man had no enemies. Brick groaned; another demanding case was headed their way. His head snapped up when he heard the door open. A voluble voice resonated throughout the walls of the building.

"Yeah, Jones, I checked out the body. It looks like some kind of acid was poured on him."

Brick rolled his eyes: _dumbass cop_. His breathing sped up as he heard the voice approach him. His eyes hastily skimmed around the room and he grumbled a few curses under his breath. The officer thrust open the office door, and scanned the area bewilderingly.

"Sherriff, you here?"

It was silent for a moment.

"Sherriff?"

He grumbled and locked the door before returning to his phone call.

"Yeah, Jones, I'm pretty sure the old man's losing it. Forgot to lock his door…"

The police officer passed, entirely ignorant of Brick standing behind the wall near him. The vampire deftly slipped out the front door, and breathed a sigh of relief. It was a good day for him; he didn't have to kill anyone (yet).

Townsville was in harmony as usual. Beaming people walked across the streets, and birds chirped their cheerful jingles. Waves and greetings were being exchanged. It infuriated Brick; he loathed joy and he loathed people. The exasperation was slithering into his mind, and clouding his eyes. This God-awful town was twirling on his last nerve, and he couldn't stand it. The soothing wind that passed by him only served to fan the flame burning in his head. Finally, he reached the back of Josiah manor. His ire intensified when he realized what was about to come. Begrudgingly placing his hand on the stone wall, he closed his eyes as he was lunged forward. To his utter astonishment, he landed on his feet. He stood there in shock for a few moments before an uncharacteristic and a satisfied smirk adorned his face.

A jovial voice interrupted his self-adoration fest, "Congratulations, _frate_, you managed to land correctly."

Brick whirled on Boomer, "Like you don't land on your ass all the time, dumbass."

"You should really take care of that cursing habit, Brick. You'll never make any friends at this rate."

Brick growled menacingly, "I don't fucking want to make any fucking _friends_, motherfucker. There: is that better?"

Boomer just continued grinning pleasantly, "So I checked out the body."

"What'd you think?"

"It definitely looks like the work of a witch."

Brick shook his head, "I don't think it is though. Witches usually have intent, but the kid's file said that he didn't have any enemies."

"Everybody has enemies though. He probably broke up with some crazy witch, literally."'

Brick still looked dubious, "I don't know."

Both boys were snapped out of their conversation when an irritating tone echoed throughout the room. Quickly reaching into his pocket, Boomer answered the cell phone.

"Blossom, hey."

Boomer was quiet for a moment while the girl on the other end spoke.

"Don't worry, we have it under control."

He was silent once again.

"Of course we know who's doing this."

He waited for Blossom to talk. This time, instead of responding, he started making strange noises.

"Yeah, Bloss, I think something's wrong with the connection. Talk to you later. Don't worry about the witch thing; we've got it under control."

Brick raised an eyebrow as Boomer rapidly hung up.

The blonde boy sighed, "Blossom's flipping out. Look, it won't even matter if we figure out who's behind this if we don't have a way to stop them."

"How do you suggest we figure that out?"

"You stay here in case there's another attack. I know someone who can help us with an anti-potion of sorts."

Before Brick could say a word, Boomer had left the manor.

~Welcome~to~Townsville~

Boomer slammed the car door closed as he stared up at a familiar tacky yellow sign: Carl's Whacky Quacky Magic Emporium. Edginess welled up in his stomach, and his breathing sped up slightly. His fingers began to twitch, and grab at each other. Gradually, he compelled his feet to move forward. Minutes later, he was facing a rickety metal door. As he opened it, a light ding rang out and a distinctly ghastly aroma met his nose. Dust-filled shelves of strange substances stood erect around the store. Swallowing down the bile that threatened to rise up his throat, he warily walked toward the ramshackle counter.

When no one appeared, he called out, "Hello?"

A shiver ran down his spine as an eerie voice slinked towards his ears.

"Lizzie Borden took an axe..."

His eyes immediately snapped up while he tried to identify the source of the noise.

"And gave her mother forty whacks…"

He recognized that it was a child's voice, yet it had a strange mechanical tone to it.

"When she saw what she had done…"

He determined that an old style doll in the corner was the origin of the sound. Chipped blue eyes stared toward him, matching the pastel colored dress that she was wearing. Bright red lips were curled into a spine-chilling smile, and worn out blonde hair fell from her head. There was something distinctly recognizable about it, though he couldn't quite place what.

"She gave her father forty-one."

"Welcome to Carl's Whacky Quacky Magic Emporium. How may I help you?"

Boomer whirled to see a familiarly towering man staring down at him. A sunny smile skimmed across his lips, and his eyes were lit up with a dark exuberance.

Boomer smiled, "Hey Carl. Long time, no see."

The man's grin grew, "Boomer, hey. It's sure been a while."

The blonde boy nodded, "The doll's new, huh?"

"Yep. Beautiful, isn't she?"

"Sure is."

The two stood in silence for a few minutes. An apprehensive feeling blazed in Boomer's stomach as Carl continued smiling. He found it impossible to believe that the man had somehow overlooked his phobia of supernatural beings. Relentless remorse began to slither into Boomer's chest at that thought. It wasn't like Carl was wrong in his abhorrence.

"So, is there anything I can help you with today, Boomer?"

"Yeah, actually," he carefully lowered his voice, "I'm having a small witch problem."

Carl nodded, "Hex bags?"

"Potions."

"Ah, I got ya. Well, why don't you come in the back and I'll help you out."

"Thanks, man."

Carl led him through a derelict door behind him, and sluggishly went down a narrow hall. A few minutes later, Boomer came face to face with a familiar blank white room. The walls were flaked in certain areas, exposing the molding wood underneath. An incandescent light flickered in the center of the room where two derelict chairs and a table stood. He began to walk towards them, but halted as soon as he heard the distinct clicking of a gun.

Carl's sneer wafted to his ears, "Lucky for you, I just got a new shipment of silver in. You didn't think I'd really help a mutt, did you?"

Fresh fury curled in Boomer's stomach, and his temper flared. His vision was encompassed in red, and his breathing became ragged. An irrational and unusual wrath was paralyzing his body as his eyes took a yellow tincture. His back hunched over and he growled. He could feel the wolf slamming against his chest, and twisting around his muscles.

The boy snarled, "Admittedly, no."

As sudden as Carl's actions had been, Boomer had twisted the man's arm and now held him by his neck like a ragdoll. Rage was coursing through the blonde boy's veins, begging to be unleashed. The gun was now in his hand, and callously pointed at Carl's head. Boomer dug his fingers into the man's throat and glowered.

"You're getting sloppy, _Szilamér_. You should know attacking a wolf so close to the full moon is suicidal."

Carl pathetically scoffed, "I'm not afraid of your kind, _monstru_."

Boomer growled, "Maybe you should be, _uman_."

He could feel the wolf chortling in his core. He closed his eyes, and breathed, refusing to give into the monster. Clutching at any sort of calm that he could, he finally felt his rage moving back to its confines. It slowly waded out of his mind, and pulled out of his limbs. His breathing once again returned to normal as did his posture and eyes. Snapping his eyes open, he viciously dropped Carl.

"I'm a friendly man, so I'll let you go, but if you ever cross me again, I _will_ kill you."

Boomer turned his back, attempting to placate the remnants of his fury. Carl's coarse voice stopped him from exiting though.

"You stupid _creaturi,_ a new king is rising, and he will kill you all."

Boomer's eyes lit up in bewilderment, and he simply stared at the man as if he was insane. Storming out of the store, he vaguely heard the doll's ghastly voice echo in his mind. As he walked outside, the sun hit his face and he could feel his rage once again temporarily spark. Vigorously throwing open the car door, he seated himself and began speeding off. He was not able to completely calm himself by the time his phone went off. He whipped it out of his pocket.

"What?"

A smug voice rang on the other end,

_"Well, hello to you too sunshine."_

"Sorry, _frate,_ I just had a terrible day."

_"No luck with your friend?"_

"_Nu_, he refused: _tâmpit_."

_"It was a tough day here too. Another kid was killed: same purple welts, same perfect child. He was a highly respected member of the_ _Thespian Society at Townsville High, and his mom said he had no enemies."_

"Alright, well, I'm heading back, and we can research a little more."

_"No time. Blossom's thing is tonight."_

Boomer felt a headache coming on, "Shit, I completely forgot. I guess I'll meet you back at the manor then."

"Sure, bye."

Brick hung up, and Boomer held his head. This was going to be a long night.

~Welcome~to~Townsville~

Sweat stained Blossom's forehead, and she apprehensively fidgeted with the buttons of her blouse. She frantically racked her mind for the correct answer, but it seemed her thoughts refused to conform to her will. Poignant dread weighed down her mind when she heard a distant buzzer go off.

"Radical 5."

"Correct, point to Cityville."

Anxiety worked its way up Blossom's throat, and her hands began shaking. Cityville was ahead by three points; there was no way Townsville could make a comeback. Sorrow had begun to slither into Blossom's chest at the thought. Her mind refused to accept that, after all that effort, her team would lose, and it would all be her fault. She risked a glance at her teammates, and her heart cringed when she saw their despondent expressions. She desperately wished to rekindle her strength, but could no longer gather the energy to do so. The announcer's voice only increased her desolation.

"Solve the following problem: a sinusoidal graph has–"

A girl from Cityville suddenly began to cough fiercely as her teammate touched her arm in concern. She raised her face upward so that it could be seen, and Blossom gasped at what she saw. The girl's face was covered in enormous purple welts, and her breathing was labored. Her eyes were turning a sickly red, and bumps began to cover her neck and lips. Her skin became dreadfully pale, and she fell to the floor. Everyone's attention was taken off the scene when a boy on the Townsville team began to violently cough as well. Purple bulges soon began to cover his skin as well as he collided with the floor. Soon, everyone was coughing, and Blossom felt her own skin begin to scald. Staring down in panic, she saw repulsive violet welts tinge her skin. Her eyes began to feel scratchy, and it felt as if she couldn't breathe. She began to violently gasp for air as her knees started feeling weak. Her body bitterly connected with the floor, and tears began to trickle from her eyes.

She vaguely felt a pair of arms wrap around her as she was hoisted into someone's grasp. Her hear fell against a firm chest, and she subconsciously snuggled into the soft fabric of the person's sweatshirt. It felt as if hours had passed, and the world continued to spin. Crisp and fresh air suddenly filled her lungs and her skin began to cool. Her visions returned to normal, and she hastily inhaled the renewed air. When her thoughts became coherent once again, she whispered,

"Bubbles."

Brick's familiarly austere voice answered her, "Boomer's working on the vents in there. She'll be fine. Do you guys have a chemistry lab?"

Blossom feebly nodded, "It's at the end of this hall on the right."

She felt frigid wind rush by her as Brick dashed forward. She heard the door open as he entered the building.

"You okay to walk?"

"Yeah."

Blossom found herself mildly shocked at the empty feeling blooming in her chest as Brick set her down. Rapidly subduing the fluttering emotion, she composed herself. Looking up, she saw a young man with orange hair and large glasses staring at them. He wore a white lab coat, deeply purple gloves, and black shoes. He wore a dark expression on his face, and in his hands was a beaker of puke green substance. Blossom instantly recognized him: Dexter; he was an incredibly intelligent boy and she always wanted to be as smart as him. Brick cautiously stepped forward, but said nothing. Apparently, this spooked the kid because he called out.

"Don't come any closer. I'll use this."

To her surprise, Brick did not sneer when he responded, "I don't think it'll help much."

"Whatever, just stay back."

Brick earnestly spoke, "Alright. What's your name?"

Dexter looked as shocked as Blossom but still answered, "Dexter."

"So, Dexter, what are you doing?"

The boy frowned, "I'm giving those people what they deserved."

"And why do they deserve this?"

"Bec-because they sit around on their h-high thro-thrones all day, and completely ignore peo-people like me. Th-they wouldn't even let me compete in Science and Math Field Day."

Blossom was dumbfounded by the sincerity of Brick's next words, "I'm sorry about that. I'm sure you deserve better, but now they know, Dexter. You proved your point, so let them go."

This time Dexter looked enraged, "No, not after all they've done to me."

"Give them a chance to fix it."

"No."

Brick sighed, "Are you close to anyone?"

Dexter hesitated, "My sister, Dee Dee."

"Is she important to you?"

"More than anything."

"And what would Dee Dee think of the way you're acting now."

Dexter was silent so Brick continued.

"Not highly, right?"

This time Dexter's voice came out as a whisper, "Nobody knows who I am, nobody cares."

Brick had finally gotten close enough to remove the beaker from his hands, "Your sister does."

Boomer finally burst through the door, panting, with the police directly behind him. It was a ruckus now, and as the police put Dexter in handcuffs, Boomer ran up to them.

"I managed to get the mist out of the other room."

Blossom responded, "Is Bubbles okay?"

"She's fine, but the medics aren't sure how to get rid of the welts."

Dexter timidly interrupted, "Applying horse radish to them should do the trick."

Boomer ran off to tell the medical team as Brick eyed the young scientist, baffled. She saw something suspiciously similar to tenderness looming in his crimson irises. Something pulled at her chest as she saw the man acting this way.

Brick stopped the officer as he walked by, "I don't think the kid had any malicious intent; he just needs help."

The police officer nodded, "I'll be sure to tell the sheriff."

"Thanks."

She grabbed ahold of Dexter's arm, "I knew who you were, Dex."

The young man smiled, "Thanks, Blossom."

He was led away, and Blossom felt a twinge of remorse stab at her heart; if only she had paid more attention to the poor guy. She turned to Brick as his eyes became taciturn once again. Uncertainty curled its way into her mind as she thought about how he had dealt with Dexter. She had never seen him be so _kind_ to anyone. She kind of always assumed that he was doing this out of some sort of obligation, but he had no responsibility to be sympathetic with Dexter. He could have taken care of the situation in a matter of seconds, but instead, he chose to talk him out of it. She was utterly astounded and _impressed_.

She decided to talk to him about it, "Hey Brick–"

A high-pitched voice interrupted them, as she spun around and recognized Elmer Sglue running toward her.

"Blossom, somebody caught a kid on the Cityville team with a cheat sheet. They've been disqualified; Townsville won!"

Blossom smiled, "That's awesome, Elmer."

The boy grinned back and ran off to tell others. Brick stared at her expectantly, and she raised an eyebrow.

He sneered, "Were you going to say something, Blossy?"

Blossom snarled, "I was going to say thanks for coming, but I don't think I will, _Bricky_."

He simply showed her the finger as Boomer entered the conversation once again.

"You guys want to go visit Bubbles at the hospital?"

Blossom smiled, "Sure."

Brick scowled, "Like I care about some random chick. I'm going to get something to eat."

Blossom rolled her eyes: typical Brick. But, somewhere inside of her, she was smiling. He could fight it all he wanted, but there was some good somewhere inside of him; she just knew it.

END SECTION 1 CHAPTER 4

Author's Note: I have many things I want to bring up:

1. Next chapter will focus mainly on one pairing, but I'm uncertain as to which one. So I figured I'd ask you all: reds or blues?  
2. Many people have shown concerns about the greens. A few more episodes and they will be here, riling things up. :P  
3. Requests are open. Feel free to leave me a prompt and a pairing/character.  
4. Are there any readers who speak Romanian? I'd love a little help with the translations.  
5. Many thanks to Momoko1030 for pointing out a mistake in chapter 2 with the Lizzie Borden rhyme.

Romanian-English translations:

Rămâne în condiții de siguranță- Stay safe.

Ne vedem mai târziu, frate- I'll see you later, brother.

Da- Yeah

Frate- brother

Monstru- monster

Uman- human

Creaturi- creatures

Nu- no

Tâmpit- asshole


End file.
